


More Than Words

by tmylm



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-08 07:29:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: “Beca?”Beca’s brows tug together again. “Uh, yeah? Who’s this?”The voice on the other end of the phone is both light and cool, it’s almost familiar to her, in fact. She hears a small laugh, and the urge to turn back toward the building strikes her. She looks up to see the figure in the fifth floor window, smile evident on her lips. Her phone is held to her ear too, and she sends a wave down to the shorter girl.“Just checking you didn’t fake number me,” she says, and Beca swears she sees her shrug her shoulder.There’s a smile on Beca’s lips in spite of the questioning in her eyes.“I have no dinner plans yet,” Chloe continues, “Are you free tonight?”





	1. Beca

**Author's Note:**

> With huge thanks to an [anon](http://snowbritt.tumblr.com/post/183056671770/hey-i-have-a-prompt-for-you-if-you-like-it-how) prompt, More Than Words (shout out to my bestie Andie for help with the title!!) is an AU Bechloe romcom style story. It's in its early stages, so I'm still in the process of working through the chapters, but hopefully there's something to everyone's liking!
> 
> (My Tumblr is linked above if you'd like to follow/send me suggestions for random happenings in coming chapters!)

_“You know we have to make cutbacks, Beca,”_ Beca mutters to herself as she climbs aboard the next available elevator. Her tone is mocking, and while she thinks her Angela impersonation is pretty spot on, she’s secretly glad that nobody else is around to witness it. _“We can’t keep people around who can’t even deliver.”_

Her boss’ words are replaying in her mind on a continuous loop. Admittedly, Beca hasn’t been the company’s best asset lately, but only because this isn’t what she wants to do. Beca Mitchell wants to write about music, she wants to explore the secrets of the global machine that is the Hollywood music scene. She has no interest in following up on a cheating scandal that adorns every gossip magazine within a fifty mile radius already.

Chloe… _Benson_? _Burke_? Beca pulls up her search history as the elevator ascends up to the fifth floor. _Beale_ , that’s it. Chloe Beale. She’s an up and coming actress, no extremely notable credits to her name just yet, which leads Beca to believe that this whole scandal, the one where new girl on the scene Chloe Beale is sleeping with another nameless co-star behind her heartthrob boyfriend’s back is all just a publicity stunt.

Regardless, Beca is going to get the story, because however much she may despise her current job, she can’t help but give her all to everything she does. It’s both a blessing and a curse, she tends to think. Angela is trusting her with this one, and Beca is sure the older woman is going to run out of last chances for her eventually. She can’t get fired, that would be a black mark on her record for any future career prospects, and Beca really isn’t the most personable of women already; she doesn’t need anything to lessen her appeal.

There’s something almost sketchy about this, Beca thinks as she exits the elevator and finds herself in what looks not too dissimilar to a doctor’s waiting room. She supposes this is how it is for the up and comers, their management isn’t going to be in their own fancy-pants building in the middle of Los Angeles. It’s going to be down a side street, in a shared building with the likes of barely qualified Orthodontists, just like this one.

“Becky?” A taller woman – everyone is taller compared to Beca – appears at the door.

“It’s Beca,” she corrects through gritted teeth, a forced smile etched onto her balm covered lips.

“My apologies. Chloe is ready for you, Beca. Would you like to follow me?”

Beca does as instructed, unsure of what she’s really getting herself into here. The plan is simple: interview the actress, slip something in there about her big scandal, maybe try to spin it into something more than it is. She can do that. Beca is a reporter; reporters don’t always tell the truth.

“Right this way.”

Beca offers the taller woman an appreciative smile as she ushers her into a room. There are two people waiting inside for her, talking amongst themselves. Beca notices one dressed a little more businessy than the other. She’s the manager, Beca is sure of it.

“Uh, hi. Beca Mitchell, Angela Collins called to set up an interview?” Beca clears her throat, addressing the two women.

The one with red hair speaks, and Beca can’t help but notice just how blue her eyes are. She’s seen pictures of her online, but those don’t do her justice.

“Hi, Beca,” the redhead greets, a cheerful smile painting itself onto her lips. She holds out her hand as she stands. “I’m Chloe Beale. You’re interviewing me. This is my manager, Carrie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Beca responds, taking Chloe’s hand in a quick but firm shake. “Dude, your eyes are, like, _really_ blue.”

Her words are spoken from nowhere, delivered a little dumbly. Chloe responds with a small laugh, and Beca is sure she feels a rush of heat to her cheeks.

“Sorry,” Beca says quickly, almost like she’s only just registering her outburst. She clears her throat, mentally questioning herself: _What was that, weirdo?_

“Chloe won’t be answering any questions regarding she and Tom’s relationship,” Carrie adds, and Beca thinks she might as well walk right back out of there, because what’s the point? She’s here for one thing, one story, and that’s that.

“Right, no, of course not,” she hears herself saying as she takes her seat, gaze drifting toward the redhead. Why is she still here? Why hasn’t she left yet? “Should we get started?”

***

While the questions flow seamlessly, and Beca finds that learning small tidbits and pieces of information about the starlet turns out to be more interesting than she would’ve perhaps expected, she knows that the interview is pointless. Nobody really cares about Chloe’s favorite restaurant or what inspired her to get into acting. Beca hangs onto every word, though. She doesn’t know why. The interview comes to an end before she even realizes any time has passed.

“Uh, yeah, so I guess those are all of the questions I have for you,” Beca concludes, flipping over the page on her notepad. Most reporters use tablets and iPads these days, but Beca is admittedly a little old-school with her pen and paper. It’s unlike her, people have noted, since technology is kind of her ‘thing’, but we all have our quirks. She has purposely left out the questions she has written down about Tom.

Carrie seems in something of a hurry to get rid of her. “I’ll show you out.”

Beca nods, gaze drifting once more over to the smile curved onto Chloe’s lips. Surely even she knows how boring that interview had been, right? If so, she shows no signs. She seems pretty happy with it, in fact. Then again, Beca is sure that for the up and comers, any publicity is good publicity. That isn’t why she’s here, though. Beca isn’t here to boost Chloe Beale’s career, she’s here to try to save her own. And she didn’t even get the information she’d needed.

Her heart sinks as she exchanges another handshake with the redhead, saying a polite if not somewhat awkward goodbye, then she’s ushered out of the room. She and Carrie ride down to the first floor together in silence, and Beca finds herself wondering what kind of businesses are housed in this building, because she knows she’s going to have to look for another job after this. She hasn’t delivered, and like Angela said, _we can’t keep people around who don’t deliver_.

Beca is escorted right to the door, with Carrie thanking her, before disappearing into a room not too far away. She’s about to leave, thinking to herself that she needs to come up with a good excuse for her boss. If this wasn’t real life, if it was a cartoon where a lightbulb would flash above the character’s head to signify an idea to the audience, Beca would have the brightest bulb above her head. She glances toward the door, the one where Carrie has disappeared, then slips back into the building, making her way over to the elevator.

This time, as Beca enters the not-doctor’s waiting room up on the fifth floor, she doesn’t think about how sketchy it all feels. Instead, she thinks about how shady she feels. It’s easy to put that thought to the back of her mind when she remembers she has rent to pay, though. She has a reputation to build, a job to keep ahold of. It helps her to feel a little less guilty as she makes her way back over to the room she’d exited only minutes prior, the sight of the girl with the silky red hair and piercing blue eyes catching her attention through the small slab of window in the door.

_Knock-knock_.

Beca opens up without invitation, entering slowly. Chloe looks up from her phone, her expression confused at first, but that smile, the one Beca had noticed right away earlier on, returns quickly.

“Beca? Did you leave something in here?” Chloe questions, blue hues scanning the area around where the reporter had previously been sitting.

“No,” Beca shakes her head. “No, I just, uh…” She just what? Wanted to ask about what a dirty cheater she was so she could report back to her boss?

Chloe speaks next, seemingly unfazed by Beca’s lack of an explanation. “I’m glad you’re here. I actually wanted to get your number.”

Beca’s brow raises. “What?”

“Your number,” Chloe shrugs a shoulder, almost nonchalantly. “There are more things you wanted to ask me, right?”

She _knows_ , Beca thinks. Her throat feels dry as she speaks, she doesn’t really know why. “Yeah. Yeah, there are. Do you have a–”

“A pen?” Chloe finishes up her sentence. “No, I do have an eidetic memory, though. You tell me and I’ll remember.”

“Oh.” Beca nods, “Okay, it’s–”

Chloe cuts her off with a short laugh. “Beca, I was kidding. Here,” She hands over her phone, and Beca feels her cheeks flush pink as she accepts it, typing in her number on the unlocked screen.

“You’re kind of cute, you know?” Chloe comments just as nonchalantly. Beca looks up at her from the screen.

“What?”

“What?” Chloe shrugs, taking the phone back once it’s offered out to her. She glances over the number on the screen, a nod of approval sent Beca’s way. “Thanks. I’ll call you and we can figure out someplace to meet? Maybe without Carrie. She doesn’t really let me talk about the juicy stuff.” Chloe leans forward as she speaks, like she’s telling Beca a secret. Beca is hyper aware that the other woman is dangerously close to her personal space, but doesn’t move away.

“Your eyes are a nice color, too,” Chloe says, “Sort of like a light gray, but that kind that probably changes color depending on the light, right?”

Beca notes that the redhead has more of a personality now, something that hadn’t particularly shone through the interview. It’s like she’s more comfortable when it’s just the two of them. “Oh. Uh, I don’t know. I guess?” Beca fumbles, eyes crossing in the middle as if she’s trying to look at them herself. The action elicits a soft chuckle from the other woman, and Beca mentally asks herself what the hell she’s doing for about the fiftieth time this morning. She knows it’s time to leave.

“It was really nice to meet you, Beca,” Chloe’s voice sounds a little more sincere this time, at least in comparison to their previous departure. Beca agrees, then leaves through the door once more.

_Dude_ , Beca thinks to herself as she calls the elevator, _What just happened?_

This time, as she exits the building, Beca’s thoughts are not consumed by the nagging worry that she’s about to lose her job. Instead, what she pictures are bright blue eyes and flaming red hair, the mental image drawing her in. She shakes off the thought as she makes her way through the revolving doors, brows tugging to meet in the middle.

The feeling of fast vibrations against her butt snap her from her thoughts, and Beca almost doesn’t register that it’s her phone until she reaches into her back pocket, sliding it out. She thinks it might be Angela, but she doesn’t recognize the number on the screen. Her thumb taps the answer button regardless, and Beca lifts the device to her ear. “Hello?”

“Beca?”

Beca’s brows tug together again. “Uh, yeah? Who’s this?”

The voice on the other end of the phone is both light and cool, it’s almost familiar to her, in fact. She hears a small laugh, and the urge to turn back toward the building strikes her. She looks up to see the figure in the fifth floor window, smile evident on her lips. Her phone is held to her ear too, and she sends a wave down to the shorter girl.

“Just checking you didn’t fake number me,” she says, and Beca swears she sees her shrug her shoulder.

There’s a smile on Beca’s lips in spite of the questioning in her eyes.

“I have no dinner plans yet,” Chloe continues, “Are you free tonight?”


	2. Chloe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little backstory for Chloe, told from Chloe's perspective. My plan is for the chapters to alternate between Beca and Chloe's views, so hopefully it doesn't get too confusing!

She can’t tell whether it’s hesitation or flustering (maybe it’s a little bit of both?), but Chloe can sense _something_ at the other end of the phone. It doesn’t throw her off. In fact, if anything it makes her smile.

“You want to get dinner with me?” Beca’s voice sounds in her ear.

“Definitely. I don’t think you can really get an authentic interview from inside of a stuffy office building.”

Beca seems to mull over the request before she responds. “You’re right. Is there somewhere specific you want to go?”

Her words are cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps, and Chloe’s the one to hesitate this time. Her gaze drifts over to the door. “Call you back, okay?” She clicks off the call, knowing she cut Beca off midway through a word. Chloe will explain herself later.

“Who was that?” Carrie asks, entering the room once more. Her blonde waves are brushed back out of her eyes, and Chloe knows her blazer will be removed in a moment. Carrie is good at that, at being professional when necessary. She’s also good at being entirely unprofessional when she wants to be, too.

“Aubrey,” Chloe lies easily, slipping her phone into the pocket of her dress. Carrie had commented on the Sunday school vibe of the new garment, and while she’d tried to pass it off as charming, it had seemed almost backhanded. Chloe hadn’t cared, though – it had _pockets_! Chloe Beale has always been a sucker for pretty and practical.

“You two talk a lot,” Carrie comments, brushing by Chloe to tend to her desk. In passing, her hand strokes over the bare skin of the redhead’s arm, the action met with something of a soft smirk from her painted lips.

“Jealous?” Chloe teases, following the other woman to her desk. Carrie is taller than her, but with her crouching down toward her desk, Chloe can easily snake her arms around her waist from behind. Carrie responds with a shake of her head and a small chuckle.

“No. That girl, Becky, was checking you out the whole way through that interview, though.” Carrie turns around in Chloe’s arms, her fingers side-sweeping a chunk of red hair from the shorter girl’s face.

They’ve been doing this dance for a while now. To anyone on the outside looking in, they’re two women in love. It’s a testament to Chloe’s skills as an actress really, because even Carrie seems to buy it. Admittedly, she feels guilty, because Chloe is not a dishonest person, not usually. She has wanted to act since childhood, though.

Her parents have always been supportive of her dreams, but never wanted to be those people to push their underage daughter into a career in the spotlight. They allowed Chloe to blossom and grow, to explore all areas of interest; she was enrolled in acting classes, but never permitted to work. They figured that if she still showed an interest in the world of acting when she was old enough to do so without consent from them, they’d remain fully supportive. Unfortunately, Mr. and Mrs. Beale had never taken into account that their daughter, whimsical and indecisive as she was, would hold onto that same dream her entire life. They never realized she’d reach adulthood and find that it’s harder to break into the industry then with no prior credits to your name. But that had happened, and now here Chloe was… Now here Carrie was.

Chloe had taken her chance the moment she’d spotted it. With her long, naturally blonde hair, lightened by the Los Angeles summertime, and those curious, sparkling brown eyes, it wasn’t difficult for Chloe to pretend to show the same interest in her as the older woman had shown vice versa. Their initial meeting had been flirty, and having been rejected from various management companies and agencies beforehand, Chloe had decided to go with it. It had worked in her favor, and now she was here, secretly sleeping with the management to get ahead. It wasn’t like she didn’t have the talent on her own. This thing with Carrie, it was just… It was insurance.

“Didn’t you notice?” Carrie’s brow raises.

“Beca? No,” Chloe lets out a soft, breathy laugh, “I don’t think so. You seem to think everybody is checking me out. I really do think it’s jealousy.” Her words are playful, though secretly they’re laced with truth. Carrie doesn’t like to share. “Is that why you hurried her out of here?”

A neatly plucked brow arches down at her. “No? We were done with the interview. I saw those other questions she had. About Tom.” Carrie’s jaw clenches slightly as his name passes through her lips. Chloe leans up on her tiptoes, wiping the grimace away with a chaste kiss.

“It’s just publicity, babe,” the redhead reminds her.

***

Between more interviews and lunch with Carrie and two casting directors, Chloe barely has the time to check her phone throughout the day. She feels it vibrate in her pocket a couple of times, but save for a quick glance here and there, she doesn’t interact with it much.

Trying to put your name on the map is _exhausting_.

It’s after six by the time Chloe is free for the evening. For two people as wrapped up in one another as they may seem when alone in the office, she and Carrie really don’t spend too much time together outside of work. That’s fine by Chloe, it makes it easier for her to keep up the facade. She can handle casual texts, telling the older woman she misses her when they’re apart. She’s free to do as she pleases otherwise, though.

She’s sitting in her car by the time she thinks to check her phone again. There are a few missed calls, some unread emails most likely from subscriptions Chloe is yet to cancel. She’s more interested in the two text messages, though.

**Beca, 12:03PM:**   
_Hey. I think we got cut off?_

**Beca, 2:28PM:**   
_Did you still want to get dinner?_

_‘Sorry,’_ Chloe types, _‘Super busy day!’_ She’s about to hit send when she finds herself erasing her message, and instead swipes to Beca’s contact card. She hits the call button, then slots her phone into the mount on her dashboard, hitting speaker. Chloe buckles herself into her seat, starting up the engine as the sound of ringing fills her car. After the fourth ring, Beca’s voice interrupts.

“Hey!” Beca pauses, clears her throat, then starts again. “I mean… Hi.”

Chloe bites back a smile. “Hi. I’m sorry about earlier, bad reception,” she shrugs, pulling out of her parking spot. “Are you still free for dinner?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” Beca hesitates. “Uh, I actually just ordered pizza, I didn’t think we were doing anything. But it’s fine, I can cancel it. I’ll call and cancel now.”

“No, don’t,” Chloe interjects, her pink polished fingernails glistening on the steering wheel in the dim evening light as she turns away from the building. “Pizza is good. What’s your address?”

Beca’s hesitation is evident again, and Chloe is almost positive she can hear shuffling on the other end of the line.

“You want to come over?”

“Yeah. Dinner, right?”

“Right…” A beat. “Okay, sure. What kind of pizza do you like?”

There’s a satisfied smile settling onto Chloe’s lips. Truth be told, ever since her cross country move to California, it’s been a rare occurrence for her to have any kind of company for dinner. Unless she and Tom are scheduled to go someplace together for the sake of the cameras, Chloe spends a good amount of time alone. It’s something of an issue for someone who’s such a social butterfly, but Chloe goes with it.

“Cheese is fine,” she shrugs, “Your address? Text it to me?”

“You mean your eidetic memory won’t capture it if I just tell it to you now?” It’s the first time Chloe has heard any kind of lightness to Beca’s tone. It makes her laugh, eyes rolling playfully.

“Text me. I just left Carrie’s office, so I’ll see you soon.” Chloe reaches out a long finger to end the call, cutting Beca off mid-word again. She really has to stop doing that; it wasn’t even intentional this time.

A new iMessage flashes up on her screen moments later.

**Beca, 6:21PM:**   
_You have a habit of doing that, huh?_

**Beca, 6:23PM:**   
_[ location shared ]_


	3. Beca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She still doesn’t know much about Chloe Beale, she thinks as she locks her screen and sets her phone down on the side table, but she’s going to keep her on her toes. She does know that much._

Beca finds it interesting that Chloe has her read receipts switched on. She can’t help but think it takes a person with a certain level of confidence to do that. Beca certainly could never; she’s a notoriously bad texter. Something had struck her as different about Chloe Beale from the moment she’d laid eyes on her, though. Truth be told, the redhead has been on her mind all day.

“Did you get the story, Beca?” Angela had asked when she’d returned to the office earlier in the afternoon.

“Not yet,” Beca had responded, “But I’m meeting her for dinner tonight.”

“I asked if you’d gotten the story, not a date.”

“It’s not a date.”

Honestly, Beca wasn’t even sure whether they would still be meeting or not. Their call had ended abruptly, and when Beca had looked up toward the window again, Chloe was nowhere to be seen. She’d shot her a text, then another one a little later on, but heard nothing back. That hadn’t stopped her from continuously checking for texts or missed calls all day.

It was typical that the first time she’d put the damn thing down all day, after ordering dinner for herself, her phone would ring.

Beca doesn’t have the time to dwell on the day’s events any longer, though. Chloe is coming over, and Beca’s shoebox apartment is looking perhaps worse than it ever has done before. She’d like to blame all of the mess on her roommate, but Fat Amy has been in Australia for the past week, visiting with her mother. The clothing strewn across the floor, the empty food cartons, the unwashed plates… Those are all Beca.

She scrambles to begin tidying before she and Chloe have even ended their call. Beca wants to ask how long Chloe thinks she’ll take to get to her, but the actress hangs up before she’s even gotten the sentence out, and Beca finds herself staring at her phone, a little bewildered. She doesn’t know too much about Chloe Beale yet, but she’s going to keep her on her toes, she does know that much.

If memory serves her correctly, she’ll have about twenty minutes before her guest arrives. It isn’t a lot of time, but it’s enough for her to haphazardly pick up the piles of clothing and toss them into her room, and to load as much as she can into the dishwasher. She mentally kicks herself for not doing any of this sooner. Then again, if she didn’t leave things to the last minute, she wouldn’t be the Beca Mitchell that everybody knows and.. tolerates.

Fat Amy’s cat, Tiger, appears from beneath an unwashed sweater, and Beca almost jumps out of her skin.

“Dude,” she hisses, hand over her heart. She swears the cat hisses back at her – that thing has _always_ had it out for her, whether Amy believes her or not. She shakes her head as she watches the cat slink toward Amy’s room, grumbling, “Just remember who’s feeding you this week.” Why she’s so on edge is anyone’s guess.

She hasn’t been keeping an eye on the time, and the sound of the apartment’s buzzer is the next thing to startle her. Beca’s eyes, rimmed thickly with dark eyeliner, sweep across the joined kitchen and living area. It’s looking a little better than it did beforehand, but still not perfect. The buzzer sounds again.

It’s instinct for Beca to watch where she’s placing her feet as she moves across the living room – neither she nor Amy are the tidiest of women. It’s almost weird to her that she can see actual floor. There’s a hole in her sock, Beca notices, her second toe peaking through. It hasn’t occurred to her until now that she’s wearing perhaps the least flattering outfit she owns, and as she catches her reflection in the full length mirror by the door, Beca wonders what kind of damage control she can do. She doesn’t have the time to change from the sweats and old band tee she threw on after arriving home from work, but she pulls her hair from its messy bun, running her fingers through it in a bid to neaten it up at least a little bit.

Her finger presses to the speaker button on the intercom.

“Who is it?” She asks, knowing it’s either the pizza delivery person or Chloe. She recognizes the muffled voice right away.

“Are you expecting someone else?”

“Did you bring pizza?” Beca retorts, tone playful. She hits the button to grant Chloe access to the building, then leans down to tug off her socks. Her toenails are painted black, and are only slightly chipped. The look is better than the unsightly hole in her old socks, she’s sure of it. She has just had the time to toss them into the trashcan when the sound of knocking rings from the door, and Beca hurries to open it from the inside. Beca looks a hot mess. Chloe, she notices, just looks hot.

Wait, what? Beca shakes off the thought.

“Hey. Come in,” she says, stepping aside to welcome the redhead into her home. Chloe doesn’t respond at first, she simply looks at Beca as if she’s studying something. Suddenly, her lips twitch into a smile.

“I was right.”

“About?”

Beca closes the door behind her guest, brow arched slightly.

“Your eyes. They’re darker in this light.”

Beca finds herself blushing. She doesn’t know why. She brushes a chunk of mousy hair behind her ear, her multiple piercings now on show. Chloe has begun looking around the room without invitation, and Beca finds herself watching her movements.

“I like your apartment,” Chloe finally states, picking up a framed photo from the side table. “Is this your girlfriend? She’s pretty.”

Beca snorts as her gaze lands on the picture in Chloe’s hand. “Who, Amy? No, not my girlfriend. She’s my roommate.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Chloe asks, her tone light. She sets the photograph back down, then continues to study the decor. Beca and Amy have very different tastes, their apartment has no specific theme. It works for them, though.

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“You’re single?”

“I thought I was the one interviewing you.”

Chloe grins as she turns to focus on Beca again, shrugging a shoulder. “Just making conversation.”

This doesn’t feel like an interview. Of course, Chloe has only just arrived, it makes sense that they’d exchange pleasantries. This doesn’t feel like a second meeting between two practical strangers either, though. Beca notes that the way Chloe makes herself at home, the way she breezes through the apartment, makes this feel like two friends, two people who have known each other for a long time. Maybe they haven’t seen each other for a while, but nothing has changed in their prolonged absence. It’s like Chloe has been in her life much longer than the not-quite-day it has been. But Beca knows that that’s crazy. Until yesterday, she’d never even heard of Chloe Beale.

“How long’s the pizza going to be?” Chloe asks, breaking into Beca’s thoughts.

“They said forty minutes. An hour or more and it’s free, though,” Beca says, and doesn’t realize she’s throwing up the finger guns until she sees the amused look on Chloe’s face. Immediately, she drops her hands, mentally kicking herself yet again.

Seriously, Beca, _what_ are you doing? She thinks.

Beca has never been the coolest of people. She likes to think she is, and the way she carries herself – dark clothing, dark eyeliner, a bit of an emo vibe to her really, though she’ll swear that that’s not the case – gives off the impression that she’s cool and mysterious. She does well at playing up to the act most of the time, but evidently not around Chloe.

This has happened once before, she remembers. In college, when she, Amy and some of their friends decided to spend Spring Break in Mexico. The physically flawless German girl had been the cause of Beca’s tongue tying more than once, and of her feet stumbling over one another. Any chill she thought she might have had had disappeared around her. It had been highly embarrassing. Of course, she hasn’t seen her since. Evidently, Chloe is here to fill in as the source of her nervousness now. Not that Beca really knows why.

“Do you want to play a game?” Chloe asks, seemingly done with her short exploration of the apartment. She flops down onto the couch, pulling her feet up underneath her and making herself comfortable. When she’d removed her shoes, Beca doesn’t know. They’re placed neatly beside the couch, though.

“How very Jigsaw of you,” Beca jokes. “What kind of game?”

Chloe thinks for a moment. “Twenty Questions.”

Beca’s brow raises. She’s used to being the one to ask the questions. She’s a reporter, it’s all apart of her job. She can be pretty guarded herself, and doesn’t particularly like to talk about herself. Regardless, she hears the word _sure_ leave her lips without question. Chloe’s somehow in her head already, anyway.

“Cool. I’ll start,” Chloe offers. “What’s your favorite color?”

That’s not such a bad one, Beca thinks. She’s still standing, arms folded as she looks down at the redhead on her couch. “Blue,” she responds, and it’s almost like the mention of the color reminds her of those crystal blue eyes she’d gotten lost in earlier. Beca doesn’t realize she’s staring into them again until Chloe clears her throat. Beca jumps slightly. “Same question to you, what’s your favorite color?”

“That’s not how twenty questions works, Beca. You can’t just pick all of the same questions. It’s yellow, though. How old are you?”

These questions are easy, definitely not the ones Beca was picturing when Chloe had first proposed they play. “You’re not supposed to ask a lady her age,” Beca teases. Chloe simply shrugs a shoulder, looking up at her expectantly. Beca had noticed this morning how the strap of Chloe’s dress had slipped ever so slightly down her shoulder when she’d shrugged. It does the same now. She hadn’t noticed the cluster of light freckles dotted along the curve of her shoulder before, though. Whether Chloe sees her looking or not, she doesn’t know, but the redhead adjusts the strap regardless. “I’m twenty-four. If you could have any super power, what would it be?”

Chloe’s eyes seem to light up at the thought. She shifts her legs further underneath herself, apparently making herself even more at home. “Mind reading,” she says without missing a beat. “I think I can read people pretty well anyway, but it would be fun to have definite confirmation.”

“Oh yeah? You can read people?” Beca asks, her mouth twitching into a small smirk. “What am I thinking?”

“Whether I cheated on Tom or not,” Chloe responds. The words throw Beca off, mostly because that’s not at all what she’s thinking. It’s not even close. But it should be. That’s why she went back to see Chloe earlier, after all. She wanted to get the story. Chloe seems to notice Beca’s sudden hesitation. “It’s okay. You’re a reporter, you want a story.” She doesn’t elaborate, nor give Beca the chance to correct her. “What’s your dream job?”

For some reason, Beca wants to tell Chloe that that’s not why she’s here. That she isn’t just trying to get a story from her. But if that’s the case, then why is she here? It isn’t just to eat pizza and play a dumb game of twenty questions. It certainly isn’t because she just wanted to see those eyes again.

“You really like my eyes, don’t you?” Chloe’s voice cuts into Beca’s thoughts.

“What?”

“You keep staring at them. You’re either trying to create a moment between us, or you just really, really like them.”

“A moment?”

Chloe opens her mouth to respond, but the buzzer sounds abruptly. Beca can’t help but think, as she makes her way to the intercom, that they somehow just missed a moment. Whatever that means. She buzzes the pizza delivery guy in, accepts the pizza box, hands over the money, then closes him out again, all the while wondering why she’s acting the way she is.

“Where are your plates?” Chloe’s voice sounds from the kitchen. Beca didn’t even see her get up from the couch, but she’s opening up cupboard doors and peering inside, until she finds the correct one. “Never mind. I found them. You know these aren’t great for the environment, right?” She has a stack of paper plates in her hands, and despite her words, she separates two, setting the rest of them back on the shelf and bringing them back over to the couch with her. Beca can’t help but find it kind of cute, the way Chloe does whatever she wants to do. She finds herself staring, but pulls herself from her trance quickly. Beca makes her way over to the couch too, this time sitting, rather than standing the way she had been before. Chloe takes her previous seat back.

“Music,” Beca states, seemingly from nowhere. Chloe’s head is tilted slightly to the side as she looks at her. “My dream job. It’s music.” Beca opens up the pizza box, offering it to Chloe. The actress takes the first slice, setting it down on her plate, which she rests in her lap. “I want to write about music. Actually, I want to produce music, but turns out I’m not good enough to do that, so.” She’s the one to shrug a shoulder this time as she picks up a slice of pizza, immediately taking a small bite. She regrets it instantly. “Holy–” She cuts herself off, covering her mouth. “That’s hot.”

“It’s melted cheese and tomato purée, of course it’s hot.”

Beca glares, finally swallowing the bite. She runs her tongue along the roof of her mouth, positive it’ll blister soon.

“Why aren’t you good enough to produce music?” Chloe asks, setting her plate down on the coffee table in front of them. She stands from the couch and makes her way back over to the kitchen. “I’m still listening.”

Beca realizes she hasn’t responded yet, but only because she’s watching Chloe. She watches as she opens a cupboard she’d stumbled upon previously, pulling out a glass tumbler, then carries it over to the fridge. She watches as she fills it halfway with milk, and Beca wrinkles her nose at the idea of her enjoying milk as a standalone drink. To each their own, she supposes.

“Here,” Chloe states, handing the glass over as she approaches.

“Ew. No, I’m good,” Beca shakes her head.

Chloe laughs, almost playfully. “Don’t be a child, Beca. It’ll help with the sting.”

Beca frowns, but her tongue is running along the roof of her mouth again, so she accepts the glass and takes a sip. The taste has her wrinkling her nose again, and another small chuckle falls from Chloe’s lips.

“Remember earlier, when I told you you were cute?” The redhead asks, amused look in her sparkling eyes.

Beca arches a brow, but nods her head in response. “Yeah?”

“I was right.”

***

They never did finish their game of twenty questions, though Beca isn’t too upset about it. The evening had been filled with casual conversation, the topic of Chloe’s boyfriend never coming up again. Beca also hadn’t had to elaborate on what she’d meant about not being good enough to produce music, so she considers it fair.

Beca yawns openly.

“Am I boring you?” Chloe teases, and Beca quickly shakes her head.

“No! No, not at all. It’s just… It was a long day. I was awake at–”

Chloe cuts her off with a small giggle. “I’m kidding. I should really leave. You know it’s already after eleven, right?”

Beca didn’t know that, and the way her brows raise is all the response Chloe needs. She has begun to stand already, smoothing out the skirt of her dress.

“Are you going to be okay driving home this late?” Beca asks, concern lacing her tone. In spite of the air she gives off as the withdrawn, careless one of the group, Beca has always been a bit of a mom friend. Chloe thinks it’s sweet.

“I’ll be fine,” she insists, “I’ll text you once I’m home if that will make you feel better?”

“It will.”

Chloe offers to help Beca clean up, but the shorter girl refuses. It’s just a couple paper plates and a pizza box, she can handle it herself. She’s more concerned with Chloe getting home safely, and she’s sure that the sooner she leaves, the sooner she can hear she’s home and stop worrying. There’s also a small ache in her chest at the idea of her leaving at all, but Beca ignores that. She probably just ate her pizza too quickly or something.

As Chloe slips on her shoes, Beca pulls herself up from the couch. She stretches and a small patch of skin is visible where the fabric of her shirt has risen. She thinks she sees Chloe’s eyes dart toward it for the briefest of moments, but assumes she’s probably wrong. The mere idea of it gives her goosebumps, though. She doesn’t know why.

“I didn’t know you had a cat!” Chloe’s voice is vibrant, less sleepy than it had begun to sound. Her eyes have widened and there’s a look of pure joy dancing on her features. She leans down as Tiger approaches, and Beca looks between the girl with the ginger hair and the cat with the ginger fur as it allows her to pick it up and cradle it in her arms.

“Whoa. Are you an animal whisperer or something?” Beca asks, approaching with caution. She’s sure she can hear Tiger purring.

Chloe laughs, her fingertips dancing over the cat’s head. “I like animals. If I wasn’t an actress, I’d want to be a vet,” she explains. “You know, cats are excellent judges of character.”

“Then he must think you’re some kind of goddess, because Tiger doesn’t like anyone. Definitely not me.” Beca edges closer, her pointer instinctively stretching out to rub the cat behind his ear. He looks up at her, his purring stops for a moment, but he doesn’t hiss. That’s a start, at least.

“Your own cat doesn’t like you?” Chloe laughs, brow arched. In the dim light of the living room fixture, Beca can see tiny particles of mascara under the other girl’s eyes. She can’t help but think that the imperfection of it all, as small an imperfection as it may be, is some kind of cute. She has mentally used that word when looking at Chloe many times tonight, in fact.

“He’s not my cat. He’s Amy’s,” she says, taking a slight step back and folding her arms across her middle.

“Well, you strike me as a pretty great person, Beca. Tiger clearly has the wrong impression of you.”

The words cause a small, soft smile to rise on the brunette’s lips. Chloe bends down to settle the cat on his feet, and he immediately brushes his face against her ankle.

“I don’t think he wants you to leave,” Beca jokes.

“I don’t think you want me to leave.”

Beca is caught off guard, her jaw slackening slightly. She quickly closes her mouth as she notices the redhead looking her way. She doesn’t realize that she hasn’t told her she’s wrong until Chloe speaks again.

“I had fun tonight,” Chloe says, her voice softer, back to that sleepy state it’d sounded moments prior. She shows no hesitation as she leans in to place a small peck against Beca’s cheek, and Beca feels her skin prickle under the feeling, heat rising to the surface.

“Me too,” she finally responds, gaze fixed on the redhead. Chloe offers her a cool smile, as well as a nod of her head. Her red hair has matted some as she’s been sinking further back into the couch as the night has progressed, and Beca notices the way it bobs against her shoulder with the action of her head nod.

“You’ll text me when you’re home, right?” Beca asks, aware she maybe sounds a little bit needy, but she’s also too tired to care.

“Of course,” Chloe promises as she reaches for the door. “I’ll see you soon? You too, Tiger.” She glances down at the cat, sending him a soft smile of his own, before she disappears out of the door. Beca thinks that means Chloe is going to come back.

Man, she really hopes that means Chloe is going to come back.

Why? She has no idea.

***

She considers moving the plates and the empty pizza box, she really does. But Beca is just so tired, and the box is too big for the waste disposal in the kitchen. It would mean carrying it downstairs and outside, and she doesn’t have the energy for that, not when she can just as easily do it on her way out in the morning. It has been no more than fifteen minutes since Chloe Beale left and Beca locked the door behind her, but already she finds her eyes closing, her mind drifting out of consciousness.

The buzzing of her phone, the sound intensified by its positioning against the mattress, startles her back to wakefulness.

**Chloe, 11:46PM:**   
_Home!_

**Chloe, 11:47PM:**   
_I really did have fun with you tonight, Beca. When can I see you again?_

Beca stares at her phone, and finds that there’s a grin drawing itself onto her lips. It’s a sleepy one, but a grin all the same. Her brow raises as she types, and she thinks that she might not have said what she does if she’d been more awake, more aware.

**Beca, 11:48PM:**   
_Good._

**Beca, 11:48PM:**   
_You make it sound like it was a date._

**Chloe, 11:49PM:**   
_Wait. It wasn’t?_

Beca is staring at the screen again, this time her eyes are wider, she’s more focused. A typing bubble pops up.

**Chloe, 11:51PM:**   
_I’m kidding._

She doesn’t know whether she’s relieved or disappointed by the clarification.

No, she does. It’s the latter.

**Beca, 11:53PM:**   
_You’re funny. You know, my boss thought it was a date when I told her I was having dinner with you._

**Chloe, 11:54PM:**   
_Aww, you’re telling people about me?_

Beca finds herself audibly chuckling as she looks at her phone, her eyes rolling playfully.

**Chloe, 11:54PM:**   
_It wasn’t a date._

**Chloe, 11:55PM:**   
_Next time it can be, if you want?_

Yet again, Beca is staring. Her heart is racing now, too. Her tongue slips between the part in her dry lips, and it’s only then that she realizes how dry her throat is all over again.

Chloe has a boyfriend. At least, Beca thinks she does. It doesn’t stop her from responding as if she has no idea, though.

**Beca, 11:57PM:**   
_Do you want to go on a date with me?_

**Chloe, 11:58PM:**   
_Are you asking?_

She hadn’t been. She was asking if that was what Chloe wanted, she wasn’t necessarily asking her on a date. At least, she didn’t think she was. Her thumbs seem to know her better than that, though.

**Beca, 11:59PM:**   
_Yes._

**Chloe, 12:01AM:**   
_Okay, then let’s do it. Somewhere fancier next time. Not that your apartment isn’t great._

Beca wonders if she’s awake. She wonders if this whole day has just been a dream. People don’t meet a beautiful woman one morning, have dinner with her in the evening, then have a date set up with her by midnight. That just doesn’t happen. In rom coms maybe, but not real life. Not for Beca Mitchell.

**Chloe, 12:03AM:**   
_I’m falling asleep. I’ll text you tomorrow and we can make actual plans, okay?_

**Chloe, 12:04AM:**   
_Night, Beca._

_Dude_. Beca’s eyes have widened. How the hell is she supposed to sleep now?

She still doesn’t know much about Chloe Beale, she thinks as she locks her screen and sets her phone down on the side table, but she’s going to keep her on her toes. She does know that much.


	4. Chloe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't love the way this chapter is written, so I want to apologize for the quality in advance. The content, however, I like, so hopefully you all can forgive me!
> 
> My Tumblr is [right here](http://snowbritt.tumblr.com) for any feedback or suggestions you all may have. Thank you so much for sticking with me this far, I have plenty more ideas for where this is going to go.

“Chloe?” Carrie’s brow is raised, and there’s a slight look of concern wrinkling across her face. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

The redhead is mid-yawn for about the tenth time this morning already. It’s barely nine thirty yet, she has been here less than an hour, but she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.

“Of course I did. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I used to be able to pull all nighters in college,” Chloe frowns, fists balled to rub her tired eyes. She does know what’s wrong with her, of course. She stayed pretty late at Beca’s last night, and laid awake texting her until after midnight. Not that Chloe regrets it at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. “Guess I’m just getting old or something. If I don’t get a whole nine hours, I’m beat.”

Carrie scoffs. “You’re twenty-six. Tell me that again in ten years.”

Being that she’s eleven years older than her, Chloe’s age is something Carrie likes to point out. Sometimes, Chloe wonders if it’s a way to help her refrain from getting too far ahead of herself, because she tends to keep her distance when the subject arises. The age gap doesn’t bother Chloe, nor can it be too much of an inconvenience for Carrie, otherwise they wouldn’t still be doing this, right? But the reminder always puts some doubt in Carrie’s mind, Chloe is sure of it.

Another yawn escapes the actress’ lips.

“Seriously, Chlo... Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“What did you do last night?”

“Ate pizza, watched television. The usual.”

It’s only half a lie; she really did eat pizza. She just doesn’t feel like getting into the Beca of it all with Carrie, that’s all. The older woman looks somewhat skeptical.

“What did you do last night?” Chloe asks.

Carrie doesn’t like to talk about her husband, and Chloe is very well aware of that fact. Honestly, Chloe doesn’t like it either, but not because she’s jealous. She truly isn’t. If anything, the mention of him just makes her feel guilty. Then again, Chloe knows she isn’t the only one Carrie is sleeping with behind his back, although it doesn’t really make it any better.

Carrie responds with a shrug, and Chloe knows she’s won this one. Carrie won’t question her again.

***

By lunchtime, Chloe is exhausted. Luckily, she doesn’t have too much to do today. Carrie has some meetings set up for her, but they’re all done and out of the way by lunch, which leaves Chloe with the rest of the day to herself. She knows how she plans to spend it: catching up on the sleep she missed last night.

The cause of her lack of sleep is on her mind as she makes her way to her car. There’s a pep in her step that might seem unusual for a woman who has barely been able to keep her eyes open all morning, and Chloe knows the exact cause of it.

**Chloe, 12:32PM:**  
_Are you waiting for me to text first? Is that the game we’re playing here?_

**Beca, 12:36PM:**  
_OMG_

**Beca, 12:36PM:**  
_I didn’t hit send on the text I’d typed up to you this morning..._

**Chloe, 12:37PM:**  
_A likely story._

**Beca, 12:38PM:**  
_Dork._

**Chloe, 12:39PM:**  
🤓

Chloe is willing to bet there’s a smile on Beca’s face to match the one on hers.

The drive home would be short if this wasn’t LA. Since it is, it takes her a long time to maneuver through traffic, and Chloe is singing casually along with the feel-good lunchtime radio the whole way, her nails tapping rhythmically along the surface of the steering wheel.

It has been almost eight months now since Chloe moved out here, but her apartment still doesn’t feel like home. Sometimes, she wonders if maybe she should’ve looked for a place with a roommate, but her initial thought that it didn’t matter, and that she could afford the rent herself was what had stopped her. It still stands; Chloe Beale comes from a family who have never struggled financially, she can afford her lifestyle. That doesn’t cure the loneliness of this large, empty apartment, though. Fortunately, Chloe can be comfortable in her own company, and especially when she’s as exhausted as she is right now.

She doesn’t even bother to change out of the dress she put on this morning, and simply flops down onto her bed, unlocking her phone to see the cause of its buzzing during her drive.

**Beca, 12:41PM:**  
_I didn’t dream last night, did I?_

**Beca, 12:41PM:**  
_I mean, the proof’s right there. But just checking._

Chloe smiles to herself as she responds.

**Chloe, 1:33PM:**  
_That depends. Which part?_

**Beca, 1:35PM:**  
_The part where you agreed to go on a date with me._

**Chloe, 1:37PM:**  
_Nope. That part was definitely real._

**Beca, 1:38PM:**  
_Cool. Thought so._

**Beca, 1:39PM:**  
_So how long do I leave it before making plans with you if I want to look cool?_

Chloe’s smile just about reaches her eyes this time. She finds it adorable that Beca wants to come across a certain way to her, but Chloe isn’t one of those people, she doesn’t care for appropriate timeframes and playing games. She has a feeling Beca doesn’t either, not really.

**Chloe, 1:40PM:**  
_How about tonight?_

**Beca, 1:42PM:**  
_Wow, you really want to see me._

**Chloe, 1:43PM:**  
_I do._

**Beca, 1:45PM:**  
_I’m free tonight._

***

Although she’s excited, it doesn’t take Chloe long to fall asleep. In fact, she doesn’t even remember it. She knows she made her plans with Beca, then she fell asleep with her phone still in her hand. She has moved around a little bit in her sleep, and when she wakes up, the phone is at the other side of the bed. Evidently, Chloe’s abundance of energy is not reserved only for consciousness.

She sleeps for around three hours. It’s a lot for Chloe; she’s not the kind of person who likes to take naps. She’s a morning person usually, something people often comment on. _How are you smiling at this time?_ is a question Chloe has heard numerous times, normally in the earlier morning hours.

She still has a few hours before she has to pick Beca up. They decided, because Chloe knows Beca’s address now, that she’ll drive. Besides, Chloe’s apartment is... Well, it’s kind of obnoxiously big for one person really. She isn’t the kind of person to care about how other people perceive her usually, but she doesn’t want Beca to think any differently of her. She saw Beca’s apartment. She isn’t judging, but they live very differently, Chloe knows that much.

Before she has to take a shower and begin getting ready, Chloe has time for her usual Skype call with Aubrey. They met in college, but Chloe really doesn’t remember how she got by without Aubrey in her life. The other girl became her best friend the moment they met. Chloe is a good judge of character, she can tell when someone is worth keeping around. She felt that way about Aubrey. She feels that same way about Beca, too. Aubrey is very protective, though, so Chloe leaves Beca out of their conversation for now.

Satisfactorily caught up with Aubrey’s life, Chloe sets about slowly getting ready for she and Beca’s date. They’re both in agreement that dinner and a movie is a little outdated, and that they’d like to do something fun, but that will allow them the chance to actually talk and get to know one another. They have settled on plans that Beca has affectionately labeled ‘so middle school’. They’re going to go bowling, play some arcade games, maybe grab some fast food if they get hungry. Chloe likes the idea much better than the thought of sitting in a crowded restaurant and watching the other woman eat.

Chloe wears a dress. Chloe wears dresses a lot of the time, in fact. The one she selects for the evening is blue, it matches her eyes. She also remembers that blue is Beca’s favorite color. She wears her usually curled hair straight. It looks longer that way, she notices. Chloe doesn’t wear much makeup as a general rule, but she wears it tonight. The look she goes for is still natural, she still feels comfortable.

Beca is short... Chloe opts for flats.

She leaves early, knowing she’s going to have to fight through the Los Angeles traffic, and arrives at Beca’s house only a couple of minutes after the time they’d agreed. She’s pretty proud of her timing, in fact.

The idea to shoot Beca a text to let her know she’s outside doesn’t even flicker through her mind. Chloe Beale is a gentlewoman, she’s going to collect her date from her door. It was a good idea too, she thinks, since the moment she sees Beca exiting the building, and she can take a real, close look at her, Chloe can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks. She wouldn’t have gotten this view from the car. She tells her so, too. Beca responds with a blush.

“I figured I had to make an effort. You already saw me at my absolute best last night. You’ve been spoiled,” Beca jokes, and Chloe cracks a smile in response.

“And _I’m_ the dork?” Chloe teases. She takes Beca’s hand in her own without thought nor warning, and she’s almost surprised when she feels Beca’s fingers lace between hers. A nice surprise, of course.

Beca is wearing a red, black and white skirt, a looser fitting black shirt tucked into it. Chloe has noticed that she likes to wear darker colors, which is a big contrast to her own style preference. They say opposites attract. Whoever _they_ are, they’re obviously right.

The shorter girl slips into the passenger side of Chloe’s car, the door of which Chloe has of course held open for her.

“If you’re trying to woo me, it’s working,” Beca smirks up at her, and Chloe sends a small wink her way.

The conversation is light as they drive to the bowling alley. It’s easy, there are no awkward silences. Chloe is the kind of person that can talk the ear off of anyone, but she likes that she isn’t talking _at_ Beca; Beca is contributing, too. It’s just... It’s easy. It feels natural. Just like last night, even with the potential added pressure of it being a date this time. Chloe doesn’t feel any pressure, and she doesn’t think that Beca does either.

***

“Are you sure you don’t need the bumpers up?” Chloe grins as Beca bowls her second gutter ball. She turns to shoot a playful glare her way, and Chloe retorts with a bright smile. She stands from the bench, and Beca swats her away.

“I still have another turn. That was just my practice shot,” she grumbles, selecting a new ball.

“I think that’s your problem,” Chloe remarks, peering over Beca’s shoulder at the ball in her hand. “It’s too light. You need something heavier, otherwise it’s going to keep veering off to the side like last time.”

Carefully, Chloe leans over to take the ball from Beca’s hands, setting it back down in the ball return. “You’re also throwing it from too high up. You have to lean further forward,” she explains, demonstrating the stance she generally uses. Little does she know, Beca has memorized the way Chloe looks when she’s up there already.

“I don’t know,” Beca frowns, arms folding across her middle. She shakes her head. “I think you’re just trying to see up my skirt.”

There’s a look of feigned surprise on Chloe’s face as she straightens up, though her parted lips are curved into a smile.

“I can check you out without being a total perv,” Chloe shrugs, her hand brushing gently against Beca’s arm in passing. She lingers for a moment, smirk settling on her face. Her hand is still on her arm, though it’s trailing down toward her hand now.

“You’ve been checking me out?”

“The whole time.”

Beca’s cheeks flush pink, and Chloe notes that it’s one of the more adorable things about Beca, the way she tries to tease but ends up a blushing mess in the end herself. She drops her hand from the other girl’s arm, motioning her to grab a ball. “A heavier one this time,” she reminds her, before stepping back toward the bench again.

“Chloe?”

The voice doesn’t register to her at first. Truth be told, she’s a little swept up in watching Beca. She whirls around to see where it came from, though, and her eyes widen as they land on Carrie. The older woman is holding hands with her husband. Chloe has met him a couple of times before. He offers her a polite smile. “George,” Carrie says, clearing her throat. Chloe notices the way her hand grips a little more tightly onto his. “You remember Chloe?”

“Of course,” he nods, “Hey, Chloe.”

Chloe knows why this is awkward. Carrie knows why it is. George doesn’t, but he seems a little uncomfortable anyway. Maybe it’s his wife’s grip on his hand.

 _“Yes!”_ Beca’s voice erupts from behind her, and Chloe almost forgot what she was doing here. “An eight. Take that, gutter!”

There’s confusion on Carrie’s face, though only a hint of it. She’s good at keeping her thoughts to herself. “I didn’t realize you and Becky were so close.”

“Beca,” Chloe corrects her. “We’re not. I mean, not yet. We’re just hanging out.” She doesn’t have to explain herself to Carrie, but she feels like she has something to cover up. It doesn’t make sense; she isn’t ashamed of Beca. Carrie is literally here with her husband, it’s not like she has any room to talk. Besides, she and Carrie aren’t actually anything, they just hook up and act kind of girlfriendy when they’re working, that’s all. Maybe it’s what else is riding on this, though. Chloe needs to stay on Carrie’s good side, she knows that. The look in the blonde’s eye tells Chloe she knows what’s going on.

“Well, the two of you have fun,” Carrie says, eyes squinting at Chloe’s face. “I like your makeup, by the way.” Chloe knows it’s a dig.

Their goodbyes are awkward, but Carrie and her husband leave, and Chloe knows that a part of her is going to be panicking for the rest of the night. She doesn’t want to let it ruin she and Beca’s date, though.

“Dude, you totally missed my eight,” Beca states proudly as Chloe joins her again. In spite of herself, Chloe can’t hold back the soft smile that draws itself onto her lips in response. Beca is just so darn adorable, it’s easy to block everybody else out. Chloe knows already that there’s something special about her. She knew it from the start, in fact.

“I did? I suck. My manager walked by, I had to say hi,” she explains, lips jutting out into a small pout.

“Carrie, right?”

Chloe nods.

“I don’t think she liked me very much.”

“What makes you think that?”

Beca shrugs. “Just a vibe. She kept giving me this weird look, I don’t know. Maybe I read it wrong. I mean, she’s your manager, she was probably just doing her job and making sure I didn’t ask anything inappropriate. It was an interview, after all.”

“Do you still want your story?” Chloe asks. Her tone is not accusatory, nor is it any form of sour. It’s a sincere question. Beca shakes her head in response.

“I’m curious, but not for the same reason anymore. I don’t want the story.”

Chloe understands the curiosity. Beca knows the same as the rest of the world: she and Tom are an item. Yet Chloe’s here, on a date with someone who is very much not Tom.

Beca’s head is tilted slightly as she continues, her hands resting on her hips. “Do you think that’s why I’m here? For a story?” There’s no accusation to her tone either.

“Is it?”

“Really?” Beca shakes her head, arms dropping to her sides. Her voice softens. “Chloe, no. I’m here because I want to spend time with you. I don’t want to write a story about you. If anything, I’d kind of like to make our own story.”

Chloe can tell by the way Beca sucks in her bottom lip that she didn’t mean to add that end part, at least not aloud. She notices the way her cheeks darken a shade.

“Wow, that was the lamest thing I think I’ve ever said,” Beca laughs, her voice thick with embarrassment. She lifts her hand to cover her eyes. Chloe can’t wipe her own smile away.

“It was kind of lame,” she agrees in a light tone, lifting her hand to pull Beca’s away from her eyes. She laces her fingers with the other girl’s, and Beca looks sheepish as she makes eye contact with her. “I happen to like lame.” For the second time in the short amount of time she has known Beca, Chloe leans in to press a small kiss to her cheek. There’s a faint lipstick mark left behind, she notices as she pulls back.

Carrie is the last thing on her mind the rest of the night.

***

Beca wins the second game. Admittedly, Chloe completely destroyed her the first time, but Beca knocked it out of the park for round two, and Chloe finds that she’s for some reason _proud_ of her.

Chloe isn’t as good at skee ball as she remembers, but she does kick Beca’s butt at both air hockey and pool. They decide they’re hungry somewhere around nine, so Chloe drives them to a chain restaurant close by, where they each order a burger, as well as a large order of fries to split. The place is a little busy, so they take their food to go, and Beca comments on how dorky Chloe’s idea for them to eat it on her car is.

 _On_ , not in.

But Beca doesn’t complain. In fact, Chloe is sure she actually kind of likes it once they’re parked up and sitting comfortably on the hood of the car, their burgers in their laps. There’s nobody around, it’s just the two of them, and Chloe can’t help but notice how comfortable she feels in Beca’s presence. She hopes the feeling is reciprocated.

“I can’t believe you’re a plain burger kind of girl,” Chloe comments. “You could’ve at least gotten a cheeseburger. You like cheese, we had it on the pizza last night.”

“Not on a burger,” Beca wrinkles her nose, grabbing a couple fries and dunking them into the tub of ketchup between them.

Chloe shrugs. “Weird, but okay. How’s your mouth? Still hurting, or did the milk help?”

“I’m not saying it was the milk, but it’s better.”

The topic turning to last night’s meal reminds Chloe of an unfinished conversation. She swallows the bite of burger she’s chewing.

“Why don’t you think you’re good enough to produce music?” She asks, voice a little softer than usual. She feels like it might be a sensitive subject for Beca, and watches her carefully as she awaits her response. The way the brunette seems to freeze up tells Chloe she’s right. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” Beca says, reaching for another fry. She keeps ahold of it, and Chloe thinks it’s her way of fidgeting. Chloe is good at reading body language. “I interned with this big music producer during college. People used to tell me my stuff was pretty good, and I always thought it was. I showed him a couple demos, and it turns out that I suck.” She shrugs, popping the fry into her mouth. Chloe can tell that Beca’s nonchalance is false, and that she does care. She really cares, in fact.

“What do you mean? He didn’t like them?”

Beca shakes her head. “Nope. He said anybody with a computer can splice a couple songs together. And I mean, he’s right. All I do is mashups of other people’s songs. It’s no talent really.”

Chloe frowns. “Did you get a second opinion?”

“Didn’t have to. This guy is... He’s a big deal. He thinks I suck, he’s right.”

Chloe wants to push, to tell Beca that giving up on her dream because one person tells her she should is a bad idea. Chloe has suffered rejection after rejection, to the point where she’s sleeping with her current manager to make sure she keeps ahold of her current opportunities. She senses that Beca doesn’t want to keep talking about it, though. So she drops it. A feat for Chloe really.

“Do you enjoy your job?”

“It’s alright. I mean, I enjoy writing, so it suits me, I guess. How about you, did you always know you wanted to act?”

Chloe would really prefer to talk about Beca, but she can tell she’s trying to take the attention off of herself, so she humors her.

“I think I did, yeah. My parents put me in acting classes when I was a kid, and I always loved it. I’m sure it’s not obvious, but I can be very dramatic.” She winks, and the action pulls a small laugh from her date. “I never did any actual work until I came out here about eight months ago, though.”

Beca knows all of this, she’d asked her in her interview yesterday. She seems to hang on to every word as if she’s hearing it all for the first time, though. Chloe is sure she’s just happy for the change of subject. She bites her lip as she considers her next change of topic. Chloe has never been very good at holding anything back, though.

“Are you still curious about Tom?”

Beca is mid-bite into her burger, but she nods her head in response.

“This is off the record, okay?”

Beca gives her a look, one that tells Chloe she should know better already. What Beca said earlier, about them making their own story, it still hasn’t left Chloe’s mind. She’s sure it never will, in fact.

“Just checking,” the redhead shrugs. “Not everything is as it seems in Hollywood. I mean, I know that you know that. Sometimes you have to do things to help move things along.” Is she talking about Tom or Carrie here? Chloe isn’t even sure. “Tom’s one of those things.”

Beca’s brow raises, and Chloe backtracks, a small laugh escaping her lips.

“That was poor wording, I’m not _doing_ Tom. It’s just business, it’s publicity. You’re not the only one that people have doubts about when it comes to your craft.”

The look on the brunette’s face shows that she sympathizes in some way, and Chloe simply offers her a small smile in response. Beca shuffles a little closer to her.

“So I have no reason to feel guilty about being here with you?” The shorter girl asks, and Chloe wonders if she’s been holding back. Her lips curve into a smile once more, something she doesn’t realize has Beca’s heart melting just a little bit as she watches it reach her eyes. Chloe shakes her head in response.

“No. I am completely available. I wouldn’t be here with you if I wasn’t. I think you’re special, Beca,” she admits, voice softening all over again. She notices a soft blush creeping across the other girl’s cheeks, even in the darkness they’re surrounded by. The moon is a good source of light for them. “I wouldn’t be doing this with you if I was already tied down to someone else.”

“You want to be tied down to me, huh?” Beca asks. The look on her face is playful, and her brows rise and fall suggestively.

Chloe grins, shrugging a shoulder. Her hand reaches out across the small gap between them. Beca takes hold of it, leaving Chloe nicely surprised. She has made all of the first moves so far, it’s nice to see Beca taking charge. Beca is still holding half of her burger in her free hand, but Chloe tugs her gently closer. “Come here.”

Beca doesn’t fight it, and instead shuffles closer. Chloe notices the way her gaze drifts to her lips. Hers does the same. The air around them is quiet, calm. It’s almost expectant. She isn’t sure if Beca meets her in the middle or not, but Chloe knows that at least she leans in, and soon their lips are pressed delicately against one another’s. It’s a soft kiss, it lasts about four seconds, but Chloe thinks it’s perfect, and she’s sure the way her lips are arched upward as she pulls back conveys that exact feeling to Beca.

“I’m glad you don’t have a boyfriend,” Beca says. Her burger is forgotten about as she leans back in, her now free hand rising to rest delicately on the back of Chloe’s neck. This kiss lasts longer, and Chloe doesn’t remember the last time someone made her heart race with such a simple gesture, but Beca does.

She doesn’t know much about Beca Mitchell, not yet. She’s going to keep her on her toes, though. She does know that much.

***

Chloe has a busy day ahead of her tomorrow, and she doesn’t want to spend the morning falling asleep the same way she did this morning. It almost pains her to do it, but she suggests them leaving around ten thirty. Beca pouts, but she’s in agreement; she also has a job to wake up for, after all.

Any silence that engulfs the two during their ride back home isn’t uncomfortable. It’s just the two of them enjoying being in one another’s presence, and when they arrive outside of Beca’s building, Chloe almost wants to drive around the block another couple times, just to prolong the departure. Maybe Beca can sense it, because she speaks first.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” she says, shifting in her seat to turn toward Chloe. Her skirt is a little wrinkled by now, but Chloe mentally notes how amazing she still looks. “I’d be okay with kicking your butt at bowling again, if you wanted.”

The teasing is cute, and Chloe is excited by the idea of a second date.

“How about we do something different next time?” Chloe suggests, and Beca smiles at the realization that she isn’t the only one planning on this being more than a one time thing.

“Something different,” She nods, “Sure.” She seems to contemplate something for a moment, and Chloe’s teeth sink gently into her bottom lip as realization sets in.

“You’re wondering whether you should invite me in, aren’t you?” There’s a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Beca blushes, but she doesn’t deny it. “How about we make our next date Friday, then I don’t have to take off as early. Carrie has nothing scheduled for me for Saturday morning.” Denying the almost-invite is difficult for her, but she has to be smart here. She’s already going to be on Carrie’s bad side, she’s sure of that.

“Friday it is,” Beca nods, and seems pleased with the outcome.

“You can kiss me again before you leave, though.” The same smirk is still in place on her lips. She doesn’t even give Beca the chance to lean in before she does so herself, her freshly painted lips met by the other girl’s. This kiss is lingering, it’s longer than the previous two. It somehow feels more natural, not that the other two hadn’t, but it’s almost like they’ve found their rhythm with one another now. Chloe admittedly doesn’t want to pull back. It has her questioning whether maybe she should just throw caution to the wind and go up to Beca’s apartment with her, but she knows it’s not a good idea, not yet. Their lips part some, their kiss deepening, before both eventually pull back. Chloe’s tongue darts out to lick over her lips once she’s sitting back into her seat again.

“Text me when you’re home?” Beca asks, unbuckling her seatbelt. Those are the best kinds of people, the ‘text me when you get there’ ones, and Chloe appreciates the concern for the second night in a row.

“I will,” she promises, eyes remaining on the other girl as she exits her car. Beca turns back to wave her off as she nears her apartment, and Chloe can’t help but mirror the smile she sees on the brunette’s face, even in the dim light.

It was a simple date, but it was a good one. There were sparks, the kind Chloe hasn’t experienced in a long time. She’s sure that Beca felt them, too.

She has only been driving a matter of minutes before her phone buzzes, and she lets out a soft, breathy laugh at the idea of Beca checking in with her already. She wants to get home, though, so she ignores it until she reaches her apartment.

The drive is shorter thanks to the later time and lesser traffic, and Chloe doesn’t even bother to climb out of the car before checking her phone. She simply puts it in park, then reaches over to the passenger side to retrieve it and unlock the screen.

**Carrie, 10:54PM:**  
_Come in early tomorrow._

**Carrie, 10:54PM:**  
_We need to talk._


	5. Beca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second date, a flustered Chloe, and some more cheesy romcom action. Big thank you to my best friend Andie for the date idea! I hope y'all like how it's playing out (and don't hate me too much for the ending)!
> 
> Here is my [tumblr](http://snowbritt.tumblr.com) for any questions or suggestions. If there's something specific you'd like to see (a scene, event, etc) in coming chapters, please don't be afraid to let me know.

Somehow, Beca is both exhausted and full of energy as she clumsily enters her apartment. Heels really aren’t her thing, but she’d worn boots with a slight platform for her date with Chloe, an attempt to give herself a little more height. She’d taken note of the fact that the redhead had worn flats. Beca appreciated it.

The fact that she’d managed not to trip over her platforms until she’d walked through her door was both surprising and appreciated. The universe had been looking out for her, it would seem.

Beca closes the door behind her, and she can’t help but think of all of those cheesy romcoms as she leans back against the painted wood. Not that Beca watches romcoms… Honestly, she barely even watches movies. Fat Amy does, though. Beca happens to be home sometimes and sees them. The feeling of that last kiss is still lingering on her lips, and Beca has no idea how she’s supposed to sleep now. Apparently, even Tiger can tell she’s in a good mood, because when he slinks out from his favorite spot – a shelf on the television stand, right by the wifi router – he doesn’t hiss. He looks at Beca, he sees her, but he doesn’t hiss. It makes a nice change.

“Was your night as good as mine?” She asks the cat. He has settled himself on the arm of the couch and begun cleaning himself, entirely unbothered by Beca’s presence. She rolls her eyes, though there’s a small smile settled on her lips.

She pours a small amount of dry cat food into Tiger’s almost empty bowl before disappearing into her bedroom for the night.

Beca wears makeup almost every day. She’s a sucker for a thick rim of dark eyeliner. Tonight is no exception, but Beca has become almost an expert at removing it all in record timing. She cleans her face, brushes her teeth and changes for bed in the time it takes for her phone to buzz. The reporter is midway through tying her mousy hair up in a messy bun, and her gaze darts to the screen, faced up on her bed, in time to see Chloe’s name.

**Chloe, 11:16PM:**  
_Home, worrier._

**Beca, 11:17PM:**  
_Good._

**Beca, 11:18PM:**  
_Going to bed?_

**Chloe, 11:20PM:**  
_Soon._

**Chloe, 11:21PM:**  
_Wish I hadn’t left._

At least Beca isn’t the only one that thinks so.

**Beca, 11:23PM:**  
_Friday, right?_

**Chloe, 11:24PM:**  
_Right._

They may only be text messages, but Beca feels like something is off. Chloe doesn’t seem as talkative as usual.

**Beca, 11:26PM:**  
_Everything okay?_

**Chloe, 11:28PM:**  
_More than okay._

**Chloe, 11:29PM:**  
_Just tired, promise._

She believes her.

**Beca, 11:31PM:**  
_Get some sleep._

**Chloe, 11:32PM:**  
_Want me to text you tomorrow?_

**Beca, 11:33PM:**  
_Duh._

**Beca, 11:33PM:**  
_Or something cooler and less eager sounding._

**Chloe, 11:35PM:**  
_No need to play it cool with me, Becs. Only eager people kiss like that._

She doesn’t know if it’s a typo or if Chloe is already comfortable enough with her to nickname her. The A and S keys are right beside one another, after all. She kind of likes the idea of it being intentional. Regardless, it’s incredible how Chloe can cause a blush to creep across her pale skin when she isn’t even in the room with her.

Beca wakes up around seven and immediately checks her phone.

**Chloe, 6:41AM:**  
_Morning, sunshine._

It has been three days now since Beca interviewed Chloe Beale. Three days since she walked into that office up on the fifth floor and laid eyes on her for the first time, and Beca is already hooked. Chloe is on her mind all day, and save for their brief good morning texts, they don’t really get the chance to talk very much, but Beca checks her phone periodically anyway. A few co-workers ask her why she keeps smiling at her screen. She doesn’t tell them, but she’s sure it’s obvious.

There’s a nagging in the back of her mind, a worry that she’s going to have to talk to Angela sooner or later about how she doesn’t have the story about the new girl on the scene and her heartthrob boyfriend, and how she isn’t going to get the story; how there isn’t even a boyfriend – though she’ll leave that last part out. Angela has called out today, though. It buys Beca a little more time.

***

It’s around six thirty in the evening, the Los Angeles air is thick and humid, and Beca has just set the water running in the shower. She tosses her shirt onto the bed, mentally telling herself she has to do some laundry soon. She doesn’t know if it’s the fabric of the shirt hitting the screen or if the text message has just come through, but she notices her phone lighting up as it peeks out from under the thin material.

**Chloe, 6:34PM:**  
_Are you home?_

**Beca, 6:35PM:**  
_I am. Why?_

**Chloe, 6:36PM:**  
_Can I come up?_

**Beca, 6:36PM:**  
_Now?_

**Chloe, 6:37PM:**  
_Couple minutes away._

**Beca, 6:38PM:**  
_I’ll buzz you in._

She doesn’t know exactly why Chloe is here, but she also isn’t complaining. There’s something exciting about an impromptu visit, in fact. Beca has enough time to stop the shower and throw a shirt back on before she hears the sound of the buzzer. It startles Tiger, who in turn startles Beca as he darts by her and toward Amy’s room in a flurry of orange mist.

“Dude, come on,” she murmurs, scowl settling on her features as she heads to the intercom to buzz Chloe in.

She feels much more relaxed than she did the last time Chloe came to visit. Her heart is racing, but for a whole different reason this time, and Beca’s smile is much more natural as she opens the door following two loud knocks. Chloe’s seems to mirror it.

“Hey,” Beca greets, stepping aside and motioning Chloe in with a small wave of her hand. Tiger reappears, as if he thinks she’s here to see him, and he’s soon weaving in and out of her feet. Beca rolls her eyes as she closes the door.

“Is he who you’re here to see?” She jokes, arms folding across her middle as she watches Chloe lean down to scoop up the cat just like she had a few days prior. It’s almost like the start of a routine, one Beca is sure she could get used to. Chloe grins over at her, fingers brushing delicately through Tiger’s fur.

“Definitely. You don’t even need to be here, I came to see my buddy T.” She winks, and Beca responds with a playful scowl.

Chloe looks at her for a moment, almost like she’s studying something. Beca is about to question her, but Chloe cuts her off. “Is that a new fashion trend that I’m not caught up on?” Her brow is raised quizzically, and Beca follows her gaze downward to her torso. Of course she’s wearing her shirt inside out.

“Crap,” Beca mutters, cheeks a soft crimson. “I was changing to take a shower when you texted me. I just threw this on quickly, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Something seems to flash through Chloe’s mind, and the smirk that tugs at her lips is a knowing one. Beca can’t help but laugh, eyes rolling playfully in response. “Give me a sec.” She says, before disappearing into her bedroom. She comes back with the shirt the right way, and finds Chloe sitting on the couch with the cat strutting along the back of it. He seems to really like Chloe. Like the redhead had said, he was obviously a good judge of character.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk much today,” Chloe says once Beca comes into view again.

The brunette shakes her head. “It’s fine, it’s not like I was checking my phone all day or anything.”

“You so were.”

“Maybe once or twice.”

It’s easy with Chloe. Talking, being in her presence, everything is just easy, something Beca had noticed right from the very beginning. She normally hates interviewing people, because as much as she tries to act confident, Beca is kind of an awkward person. She never felt that with her interview with Chloe, though. The manager may have made her feel a little uneasy, but not Chloe. She has only made her feel more comfortable the more time the two have spent together.

“Is that why you’re here? To call me out for looking for texts from you all day?” Beca asks, plopping down onto the couch. Tiger hops down from the back and slinks away to the television stand, evidently going to take his spot next to the router again. _Well, excuse me for interrupting, sir_ , Beca thinks.

There’s a soft laugh from Chloe’s lips, the sound becoming familiar already, but she shakes her head, her curls bobbing over her shoulders. Beca doesn’t mean to stare the way she does, but it seems Chloe is doing the same in return, so she doesn’t feel too guilty.

“No. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sounds serious.”

“It is. Or kind of, anyway.” Chloe shrugs a shoulder. Beca notices that she’s wearing jeans today, something she hasn’t seen her in yet. She looks good, but then again, she hasn’t seen her looking bad at all. She isn’t even sure Chloe Beale is capable of looking bad, in fact.

“Okay,” Beca prompts, “Go ahead.” She feels somewhat nervous, but does a good job at not letting it show. Chloe’s expression becomes almost sympathetic, and Beca thinks that maybe she’s right to feel nervous.

“I had a lot of fun last night,” Chloe says, and Beca thinks _here we go… ‘But’_.

The redhead continues. “And I’m excited for Friday.”

Although not in a negative way, Beca finds herself surprised. She really had thought for a second there that Chloe was about to end this before it had even really gotten started. They have only been on one date, after all. It would be easy to call it quits. But Beca doesn’t want that. She might not know much, but she knows that for sure.

“Me too,” Beca agrees.

“Good. I guess I just think we need to talk about some stuff. You know how I told you there’s nothing going on with Tom, right?”

Beca quirks a brow, unsure of where this is going. Her response is somewhat slow; cautious. “Yeah..?”

“I know it’s not real, and you know it’s not real, but other people don’t. I mean, if it were up to me, we’d just end the whole sham now. But I don’t really make the rules when it comes to publicity, so I kind of have to keep it up. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

Beca nods her head, almost relieved. “I think so. You’re saying we have to keep this between us, right?” She motions with her pointer, nail polish dark and chipped, between the two of them. “You and me.”

“You and me,” Chloe echoes, lips tugging into a relaxed smile, “I like the sound of that. Yes, that’s what I’m saying. And I know that it’s maybe a lot to ask, but–”

She doesn’t mean to interrupt her, but if she really thinks about it, Chloe has done it to her plenty. The two phone calls they’ve shared before now, Chloe has ended them when Beca has been in the middle of a word, so she doesn’t feel too guilty. She scoots closer to the actress, the gap between them closing as Beca leans in to press a small kiss to her lips. The action silences Chloe, who kisses back willingly. Her expression is much more relaxed as she pulls back.

“It’s okay,” Beca promises, almost surprised at herself for being the one to suddenly take the lead here. “You don’t have to explain yourself, I get it. I’m fine with this just being our thing.” For now, anyway. If it progresses, which Beca secretly hopes it will, then they’ll have to talk again. For now, she gets it.

“Are you sure?” Chloe asks, blue hues meeting gray. “Because I don’t want you to feel like you’re a secret or anything, it’s not that.”

Beca’s laugh is soft and light, it’s cool enough to seem to reassure Chloe. Her hand stretches across the small gap between them, settling on top of the actress’. It’s nice, the way Chloe’s fingers lace through hers so naturally. “Chloe, stop. I told you, I get it.”

“Fine. I was just checking.”

***

There are no more impromptu visits over the course of the next two days. There are plenty of text messages exchanged, though. One set of which borders on a little risqué, but Beca doesn’t see Chloe. At least not in person. They have added one another on Snapchat, and there’s been something of an ongoing flirty picture exchange. Beca likes it, she likes the updates and the constant communication, but she can’t wait to see Chloe in person.

They schedule their date for Friday night, just like they had said. With Chloe’s situation in mind, and the fact that they have to remain quiet about whatever is going on between them, Chloe suggests drinks at a hotel bar, the idea being that it’s less likely for passers by to see them. Beca wonders if they’re going to get a room, but she doesn’t ask. She brings an overnight bag in the trunk of her car just in case, and meets Chloe in the hotel lobby.

It’s an upscale place, somewhere Beca has never been before. They both wear dresses; Beca’s is black and Chloe’s is blue, though much fancier than the one she’d worn to the bowling alley. They both wear heels this time, too. The height difference doesn’t matter so much, since they spend the whole time sitting down anyway. Unlike most people, Chloe really isn’t that much taller than Beca, truth be told. It’s not an issue.

They split a bottle of wine, something French that Beca can’t even pronounce the name of. She’s normally a beer girl, but this seems like a wine kind of place, and the brunette knows that her date looks the very picture of sophistication in her low-cut blue dress, sparkles flecked throughout it. Her hair is pinned back and her curls frame her face. Beca thinks she looks beautiful, and when she tells her, she’s sure Chloe blushes.

There are no awkward silences. There are brief pauses and plenty of stolen glances, gazes locking across the table, hands finding their way to one another, but no awkward silences. The conversation flows, the same way it always does. Whether they’re texting, talking on the phone or sitting beside one another, nothing is ever awkward or uncomfortable. Beca doesn’t experience that with a lot of people, but she does with Chloe.

By the time the bottle is empty, Beca is feeling a little buzzed. She isn’t exactly _drunk_ , but tipsy fits the bill, and there has still been no mention of a room. She doesn’t want to bring it up, but she also doesn’t want to drive home, not yet. She thinks a little fresh air might help, so she suggests a walk outside.

They don’t make it that far, though.

They’ve been flirting all night, teasing each other playfully. Feet have brushed against smooth, bare legs, gazes have dropped to visible chests. Their hands are clasped together comfortably now, Chloe’s thumb tracing absentmindedly across the back of Beca’s fingers as they walk. There are two doors, one to the right leading to the lobby, and one to left bearing a sign for the indoor pool.

Chloe begins to walk right, but Beca veers to the left, grip tightening a little on Chloe’s hand.

“Wrong door,” Chloe laughs, gently tugging the shorter girl toward her. Beca shakes her head, and Chloe responds with a raised brow, an amused smile dancing on her lips. “That’s the pool, Beca. How drunk are you?”

“Is it?” Beca asks, head tilted slightly to the side. She lets go of Chloe’s hand, and the redhead watches her in a midst of both amusement and confusion. Beca backs toward the door, lifting her hands in an overly exaggerated shrug. Her back hits the door, and she’s surprised to find that it opens, though it plays out perfectly for her. “Suddenly I can’t read.”

“Beca!” Chloe’s laugh is louder, and she brings a hand up to cover her mouth, looking quickly around. Through the other door, she can see people standing in the lobby. They’re not paying attention to them. Beca, meanwhile, is lingering in the doorway to the indoor pool. The indoor pool that closed hours ago. The main lights are off, but the spotlights along the walls of the pool are lighting up the water. Chloe can see gentle ripples in the crystal clear liquid as she looks over Beca’s shoulder. The brunette motions with her head for Chloe to follow, and she really doesn’t know where her confidence came from. Maybe it’s the wine. But Beca isn’t drunk, just tipsy.

“Beca, come on,” Chloe says a little more firmly this time, though her tone is hushed and her amusement lingers as she steps forward to grab her date. Beca takes her hand and tugs her through the door, and suddenly they’re pressed up against one another in the dimly lit room, underwater spotlight’s providing the light.

“You’re insane,” Chloe’s giggle is soft and almost childlike, and while it’s pretty dark, Beca thinks she can see a hint of red overtaking her cheeks. It’s adorable, Beca isn’t second guessing her decision.

“Maybe,” Beca agrees, a soft smirk threatening the corners of her lips. Incidentally, her gaze drifts down to the red lips in front of her, but Beca doesn’t lean in. Not this time. This time, she takes a small step back, riding on the high of her sudden boost of adventure. This is entirely unlike her. But Beca has surprised herself many times over the course of the last week, and she knows Chloe is the one to blame. She likes it, there’s no denying that.

She reaches down to slip off her heels, and Chloe’s mouth hangs open slightly as she watches her. “You’re not actually going to get in there,” she says, though it comes out as something of a question.

“I’m not?” Beca’s brow wrinkles as she drops her shoes to the side, her purse laid against them. Beca has never been ashamed of her body, though she does feel vulnerable as she lowers her hands to the skirt of her dress, and for just a moment, she wonders whether she’s actually going to do this or not. Her eyes are locked with Chloe’s, though as she begins to tug up the fabric, she notices the redhead’s gaze dropping down her body. It’s almost like fuel to Beca’s fire, and soon enough her dress is discarded with her shoes.

Beca doesn’t normally match her underwear, she tends to throw on whatever she comes across first in her drawer, though tonight she’s wearing a matching set; black lace bra, black lace panties. She can see that Chloe’s eyes are drinking her in, and Beca knows she made the right move. The look on Chloe’s face, eyes slightly hooded as she watches her, sends a shot of confidence throughout her body.

She does it slowly, not wanting to make too much noise and draw attention to them, but soon Beca has lowered herself into the water, the smell of chlorine filling her nose as small waves ripple around her. Chloe is watching with her arms folded, and Beca doesn’t know which is more overpowering; her look of amusement or adoration.

“Are you coming in?” Beca asks as she begins to float coolly on her back, gaze up on the other woman. Chloe shakes her head.

“Please?”

The redhead seems to think about it, and while she’s trying to act annoyed, her amused smile betrays her.

“I’ll go under and I won’t come back up until you get in.”

Chloe’s brow raises, and while she doesn’t use her words, her expression tells Beca _I dare you_.

There’s another ripple as Beca ducks her head under the water, her not-waterproof mascara definitely suffering, but she doesn’t care. She holds her breath, something many summers of playing in swimming pools with her older cousins has given her the ability to do for a good amount of time. Beca can be very competitive sometimes.

Her eyes are closed, but she feels a pull from the water around her, hears the faint sounds of waves lapping. She finally emerges at the surface to see Chloe’s blue dress and black heels laid beside her own, red hair wet as she floats toward her.

“You’re insane, Beca Mitchell,” Chloe repeats. It’s met with a smug look from the shorter girl, who instinctively wraps her arms around the redhead’s neck. She feels Chloe’s hands around her waist, holding her up.

“Maybe. But I got you in here with me, didn’t I?” She shrugs, guiding them gently toward the edge. Chloe’s back touches the side, and the spotlight beneath them lights up their faces perfectly. There are water droplets glistening on Chloe’s face, her hair flattened by the water, but as Beca holds onto her, no further words exchanged between the two, she can’t help but think this is the most beautiful Chloe Beale has looked.

The gap between them closes. Beca is the one to have leaned in, but Chloe doesn’t fight her. Their lips press to one another’s almost automatically, and Beca decides to go with her confident streak. Her tongue runs delicately along Chloe’s bottom lip, softly sliding through the small part between them to move against the other girl’s. Chloe reciprocates the action, her arms tightening just a little around Beca’s waist, their bodies pressing closer to one another’s.

By the time they pull back, Chloe is a little breathless, a little flustered. Blue eyes meet gray again as the redhead whispers softly,

“I got us a room.”


	6. Chloe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one may be a little shorter, since it's kind of a follow on from the previous cliffhanger that I totally did on purpose because of who I am as a person.
> 
> It's Chloe and Beca's first time, but you all know me by now, there just _might_ be another cliffhanger on the end there. As always, feedback is super appreciated. 
> 
> NSFW/mature content. You were warned!

It makes sense, the fact that Chloe has never seen this side of Beca before. They have only known each other a short amount of time, there is a lot they don’t know about one another yet, though it’s easy to overlook that when Chloe thinks about how easily this girl has slipped into her life. She hasn’t met this side of Beca Mitchell before now — confident, playful, in control — but she knows already that she really, really likes it.

She still can’t believe they’re in the water. While Chloe is a curious person, the kind to seek out excitement and adventure, she does also tend to stick to the rules. Apparently she’s willing to break them for the woman currently wrapped around her, though. Her arms are around Beca’s waist, though as Chloe pulls back from the kiss, the one that has left her a little breathless, she allows her hands the freedom to explore just a little bit. They’re still under the water, she really can’t do too much, but she finds her fingertips tracing the back of the reporter’s thighs as she holds her against her, awaiting a reaction.

“I was hoping so,” Beca responds in a soft, almost husky voice. Her arms have tightened some around Chloe’s neck, almost like she can’t get close enough.

Chloe had booked the room when she’d suggested the hotel as their second date. Truth be told, she’d booked it for herself; she knew she would be drinking and she didn’t want to drive home. It’s a double room, but she didn’t want to look too presumptuous, nor for Beca to feel any pressure. So she had kept it to herself thus far. The look in Beca’s eyes tells her she’s glad she did it.

“Want to go up there now?” Chloe asks, the softer volume of her voice matching Beca’s. The sound of the water rippling calmly around them is comforting and gentle, it’s creating a mood of some kind. She doesn’t want to break it.

“In a minute,” Beca responds. Chloe’s gaze is locked with Beca’s, and she watches as the other girl’s drops down to her mouth. They meet in the middle again, desperate lips pressing against one another’s. Beca’s head tilts slightly to the side, her lips parting and her tongue sliding through the gap in Chloe’s to meet her own. Once more, Chloe reciprocates. It’s a deeper kiss than the last, it’s one she doesn’t want to break. When they do finally part, however, she can feel her heart racing harder, she notices the way Beca is breathing a little heavier.

“Now I do,” the shorter girl says at not much more than a whisper, arms unwrapping from around her.

They’re hand in hand again as they make their way up to the third floor where their room for the night is situated. The thought that putting on their clothes once they’d gotten out of the pool was a little pointless had flashed through Chloe’s mind, but they also couldn’t walk through the hotel in their underwear. Not because she’d be jealous of people looking at Beca, but that’s tied in there somewhere. Neither went to the effort of putting their shoes back on, and instead they hold them with their purses in their free hands. They don’t speak, they just walk with their hands holding onto one another’s, fabric clinging to damp bodies. The silence is not uncomfortable, but as Chloe swipes the keycard into the door and guides Beca inside, she notices that the brunette seems a little nervous. Her eyes are on her as Chloe closes the door.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asks as she turns to her, voice soft and reassuring. At first, there’s no response. Just gray eyes on her face. Maybe they just made out in their underwear in an isolated pool, but that doesn’t mean anything else has to happen. Chloe is not expecting anything specific, she just wants to spend time with Beca.

“You’re beautiful,” is Beca’s response. She seems to surprise herself with it, but she doesn’t take it back. Chloe’s expression is somewhat bashful in return.

“That doesn’t tell me whether you’re okay or not,” the redhead says in that same soft voice, the hand still in her date’s used to tug her gently closer. “You know that I’m not expecting anything from you here, right?”

Beca nods her head, and it seems that she appreciates the reassurance. She takes a small step forward, bringing a hand up to brush a chunk of damp red hair behind Chloe’s ear. Her black nail polish is fresh, it’s not chipped anymore. They both smell like wine and chlorine, though there’s still a faint hint of perfume mixed in somewhere. She doesn’t realize how intently she’s looking into Beca’s eyes until the shorter girl breaks the contact to press her lips against her own once more.

Chloe has never wanted someone like this before. Not after only two dates. She and Carrie hook up a lot, and sure, it’s fun, but Chloe can take or leave it. She wants Beca, though. Her whole body feels like it’s aching for her as their lips brush against one another’s, the taste of the other girl becoming familiar to her already.

Unlike those prior, this kiss doesn’t stop. Chloe doesn’t want to do too much too fast, she doesn’t want to scare Beca, but as the shorter girl gently takes Chloe’s purse and heels from her hand, dropping them onto the floor and out of their way with her own, Chloe has a feeling she wants her, too. Her hands find their way to Beca’s waist, fingers clutching onto the fabric of her dress as she begins to guide her, slowly, backward and towards the queen sized bed. Their lips don’t move as calculatedly against one another’s anymore, but they also don’t part. They press small pecks here and there, but the focus is on them moving toward the mattress, which Beca’s legs eventually hit. Chloe doesn’t pull back, but feels Beca lowering down to sit, hands slipping around her waist to pull her down on top of her.

Chloe’s body obeys without question, her knees sinking onto the mattress at either side of Beca’s thighs. Her dress, the hem of which has begun to rise with the guidance of Beca’s fingers, is short enough that it doesn’t get in the way. Soon enough it’s lifting right the way up her body, and Chloe has to finally break their kiss to allow the brunette to tug it off completely. For the second time tonight, her sparkly blue dress is thrown into a heap on the floor, and this time it’s Beca’s turn to drink in the sight in front of her, of pale skin and soft curves, of blue lace the only thing stopping her from seeing _everything_.

Chloe looks down at her, trying to gauge her emotions, her feelings. She wants to know what Beca wants. She’s about to ask her when the reporter drops her hands to her own waist, tugging at the fabric of her black dress until she’s peeled it off and tossed it aside. Chloe is met with the sight that caused an aching between her legs back at the pool, only this time it’s directly underneath her. This time, she can do something about it.

When she leans in this time, it’s to press her parted lips to the underside of the brunette’s jaw. Beca’s face tilts to the side, like she’s making room for her, and Chloe feels slender fingers slipping around her thighs, palms landing delicately on her ass. The kisses she’s pressing to Beca’s skin are wet and messy, she can taste the chlorine, feel the heat from her skin beneath her lips. She can feel the way Beca’s breathing is quickening beneath her, and while she’s almost sure she knows the answer already, she wants to remove the _almost_. “Tell me what you want,” she whispers, mouth already close to Beca’s ear.

“Don’t stop,” Beca mumbles in response. Her hands have begun to roam over the curve of Chloe’s waist, fingertips rising further up the soft skin of her back. Chloe presses another open mouthed kiss below the reporter’s ear.

“Are you telling me you want me as much as I want you?” She whispers, the feeling of the other girl’s hands on her body causing goosebumps to rise in their path. It seems almost experimental, the way Beca’s fingers dance over the strap of Chloe’s bra, and she wonders if she’s looking for permission.

“It’s okay. You can take it off.”

Beca doesn’t need telling twice. Soon, the blue lace bra is added to the ever growing heap of clothing beside the bed, still damp from its earlier dip in the pool. Her panties, of course, are wet for other reasons now.

Chloe has pulled back from pressing kisses to Beca’s skin, and she notices the way the other girl is now looking at her, the way her eyes are roaming her body, like they’re taking in every visible part of it. Chloe feels both vulnerable and empowered, and God, if she wanted Beca before, it’s nothing in comparison to how badly she wants her now. She’s debating her next move, and doesn’t realize Beca is doing the same thing until the brunette’s hand settles on top of her own. Chloe watches as Beca picks up her hand and presses it to her stomach. She soon slides it under the material of her black lace panties, and Chloe can feel the heat radiating from between Beca’s legs, feel how wet she is against her fingertips. It causes the redhead’s breath to catch in her throat.

“Does that answer your question?” Beca asks, hooded eyes gazing up at her. Chloe knows she doesn’t need to respond, not verbally. As soon as Beca has removed her own hand from inside of her panties, Chloe takes it as permission to let her own fingers, now slick and coated with arousal, explore without Beca’s guidance.

Chloe rests her free hand over Beca’s shoulder, gently guiding her back until the brunette is laying down, with Chloe’s hand pressing flat to the mattress to hold herself up. She wants to see her, she wants to see what she’s doing to her as her middle finger flicks feather lightly over her clit. The action is met with a soft whine from Beca’s swollen lips, and while Chloe knows there’s something soft and sweet about this whole thing, she can’t help the hint of a smirk that rises at the corners of her mouth.

A soft, breathy chuckle leaves Beca’s lips at the sight, then her eyes are closing and she’s giving in to the feeling of Chloe’s finger working her up, spreading her wetness in small circles against her clit.

Chloe doesn’t mind that she’s doing the work here. She wants to pay attention to Beca’s body, to draw out sounds like the soft whimpers emitting from her lips. Chloe lets out a small moan of her own as she dips her head to press her lips to the soft skin of Beca’s collar bone, the body beneath her reacting with a small shiver.

This may be the first time for them, but Chloe isn’t the kind of person that holds back. She wants to explore a little more, to learn the taste of more than just Beca’s mouth, but she’s still mindful of not going too far. She doesn’t want to ruin anything, and instead continues to let her fingers brush against her, her middle finger experimentally sliding gently inside of her as it meets her center. Beca responds with a quiet moan, and Chloe goes back to rubbing circles against her clit.

“Jesus, Beca,” Chloe breathes, a second finger slipping inside of her this time. Beca responds with a longer, more drawn out moan, and Chloe can feel the way she’s clenching around her fingers, “You’re so hot.”

She’s experimenting. Her lips are still pressing at random to hot, smooth skin, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses in their wake, while her fingers pump in and out of her, with Beca’s body reacting to each movement. Her stomach tenses and her legs part further, her breathing fast and volume picking up with each new whimper, each new moan.

Chloe still doesn’t want to go too far, she’s still fighting herself to hold back, but everything about Beca is turning her on, everything is just making her want to feel more, to pull bigger, louder reactions from her small frame. She can’t help herself as her fingers slip back out of her to stroke over her clit and she asks, “Can I go down?”

“ _Please_.”

The response surprises her, and Chloe slows the pace of her fingers as she pulls back to hover her body over Beca’s, looking down at her face. Beca’s eyes open, her gaze meeting Chloe’s, and she nods her head as if to tell her she heard her right the first time. She slips her hand out from inside her panties, and she watches the way Beca’s body moves with her faster breathing, her chest rising and falling more prominently, stomach clenching, eager for more contact.

Chloe is good at this. She knows she’s good at this, and she knows she’s going to feel smug when she hears what she’s doing to Beca, when she feels her against her tongue. It drives her to waste no more time, and soon she has begun to kiss her way down the reporter’s body, her lips pressing to the valley between her breasts, down to her stomach. Chloe scoots back, and as she allows herself a peek up toward Beca’s face, she sees the way she’s watching her. Chloe responds with a small smirk, fingers hooking under the fabric of her panties. She soon begins to slide them down her legs until she’s peeling them right the way off and dropping them onto the floor. Chloe’s eyes sweep over Beca’s body.

She really is beautiful. Chloe tells her so before she’s hooking her arms under Beca’s thighs and spreading her legs apart, her tongue finally taking in that first taste, the one she’ll soon commit to memory.

Chloe wants to draw this out, she wants to spend as much time as she can consumed by everything Beca Mitchell. She doesn’t know exactly how long she keeps going, but eventually Beca can’t take anymore, and when she comes completely undone, her sounds and movements are like some kind of reward. Chloe mentally pats herself on the back as she kisses her way back up the brunette’s body until she’s hovering over her face. Her expression is smug, whether she wants it to be or not, and Beca looks up at her with slight embarrassment, though she laughs gently, still coming down from her high.

“You taste good,” Chloe murmurs as her lips meet Beca’s again. The reporter kisses her back almost lazily, and Chloe is proud to be the reason for her lack of energy. “You sound good, too.”

There’s a small whine from Beca’s lips, her laugh soft and light. Chloe nips playfully at her bottom lip with her teeth, before finally forcing herself away. She rolls off of the other girl, her own mouth curved into a satisfied smile as she holds herself up with her elbow, looking down at her. Beca’s body is still moving in a way that shows she hasn’t quite caught her breath yet, but she’s getting there. It really is an incredible sight.

Beca tells her she wants to reciprocate, but Chloe shakes her head. She tells Beca that it’s late, and that they don’t have to be out of the room until noon tomorrow, so if she wants to then, she can. For now, Chloe wants to cuddle.

Maybe it seems like a lot. A week in one another’s lives, two dates, and they’re already so wrapped up in one another, but Chloe chooses not to question it. All she knows is that as she lays beside Beca and the smaller girl curls her body into her, it feels right. This... Whatever it is between she and Beca, it really just feels so _right_.

***

Beca doesn’t get to return the favor the next morning, but only because when they wake, it’s already almost noon. Evidently, the excitement of the previous night, as well as the bottle of wine they drank together, had really taken it out of them. It may also have had something to do with the late nights both had endured for the past week while they’d stayed up to talk to one another. Chloe is fine with it, though. She knows she wouldn’t change anything about the last week of her life.

No, not true. Maybe she’d change the Carrie of it all.

Carrie, who was jealous of her hanging out at the bowling alley with ‘Becky’ — Chloe knows she gets her name wrong on purpose.

Carrie, who is married and who has absolutely no right to feel any type of way about Chloe dating another woman.

Carrie, who is the real reason Chloe is keeping this a secret. Their talk the other morning, after her manager had seen her out with Beca the previous night...

Well, let’s just say Carrie has the power to ruin everything.


	7. Beca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third date. Some meddling. A couple new characters. The plot thickens!
> 
> You can find my tumblr [here](http://snowbritt.tumblr.com) for any questions or suggestions. I'm so thrilled by the response I've gotten to this so far, and I'm taking all of your suggestions on board. I plan to implement as many as I can throughout the coming chapters.

After leaving the hotel, they decide to go to lunch together. They each have their own car, so Beca follows Chloe to a nearby cafe that the redhead swears will, to directly quote, _“change your life, Beca”_. Beca thinks her enthusiasm is adorable, and she has to admit, the turkey sandwich she orders really is pretty darn good. Chloe orders a strawberry salad, which Beca doesn’t _really_ understand the appeal of, but she seems to enjoy it regardless.

Chloe has dinner plans already, but Beca is confident that, if not, they would’ve likely spent that evening together, too. She thinks about asking the actress if she’d like to spend Sunday with her, but she also doesn’t want to overcrowd her. They go their separate ways after lunch, but they barely stop texting all weekend.

Beca notes that since their second date, their texts have only become flirtier, and she wonders a couple of times if maybe they’re going to become more like sexts than texts. Chloe confirms it for her on Sunday evening.

**Chloe, 7:32PM:**  
_I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day today, you know?_

**Beca, 7:34PM:**  
_Oh?_

**Chloe, 7:34PM:**  
_Mmmmhm._

**Beca, 7:35PM:**  
_What have you been thinking about?_

**Chloe, 7:37PM:**  
_The way you taste._

It’s bold and it’s blunt, but it also doesn’t come as a surprise. Beca has noticed that both bold and blunt are very good descriptors as far as Chloe Beale goes. The message has her sitting further upright on the couch, legs tucked up underneath her, and she has to think for a moment about how she wants to respond.

**Chloe, 7:38PM:**  
_The way you sound too._

Beca doesn’t know how to be bold, not like Chloe. She tries, though.

**Beca, 7:39PM:**  
_You were very good at that._

**Beca, 7:39PM:**  
_I’ve been thinking about that too, just so you know._

**Beca, 7:40PM:**  
_Tasting you._

Maybe she didn’t get to reciprocate after Chloe had made her feel good on Friday night, but their conversation becomes pretty graphic, and if Chloe is really doing all of the things to herself that Beca tells her to do, she’s sure she at least kind of makes up for it now.

They make plans to see each other for a third date on Tuesday.

***

By Monday lunchtime, Beca has made a decision.

She and Chloe have been on two dates, they have their third planned. They text all the time, they’ve had sex, they’ve sexted… They’re _dating_. It doesn’t seem right for her to have the responsibility of the fake Chloe Beale cheating scandal on her shoulders, she’s too involved by now. She decides she’s going to talk to Angela, explain the situation. She’s going to apologize profusely, and she’s going to suggest they drop the story or that Angela at least gives it to someone else, someone less involved. She finds herself in her boss’ office around noon.

“Beca, hi. I’m glad you’re here, I actually wanted to talk to you about Chloe Beale.” Angela says before Beca has even gotten the chance to take a seat across from her. Angela’s desk is messy and disorganized, but somehow that woman seems to always be able to keep on top of her crap. It kind of blows Beca’s mind.

“Oh, yeah, that’s actually why I’m here,” Beca responds, a little stunned.

Angela apparently isn’t done, though. “I have a message from her manager… Carrie something or other. I don’t know, she says she met you last week.” Angela waves a hand, as if the details are not important. “She wants to see you, something about the interview. Should I call and let her know you’ll be there this afternoon?”

The whole thing throws Beca off, and while she still thinks it’s inappropriate for her to be involved with this particular story anymore, she has to admit, she’s intrigued. “Uh, yeah, okay,” she hears herself saying, almost against her own will.

“Great. The same place you met with her and Chloe for the interview.”

“Alright, awesome. I mean. Thanks, Angela…”

Beca considers texting Chloe to ask if she knows what’s going on, but she remembers the other girl has a big audition today. She doesn’t want to throw her off her game. She decides she’ll wait and talk to her later.

Before she goes to meet with Carrie, Beca has to silence her growling stomach. She skipped breakfast that morning, since she and Chloe had been texting until late into the night and she’d opted for an extra hour in bed. Beca orders herself a strawberry salad for lunch. It’s not as bad as she’d expected.

***

It feels strange to her, riding in the elevator to the not-doctor’s waiting room up on the fifth floor. Almost like she was here only yesterday. The flowers in the lobby are the same ones that were there before. The air is thick and humid, just like last time. But at the same time, it feels like a lifetime away. The last time Beca had been here, she hadn’t known Chloe Beale at all. She knew she’d left wanting to know more about her, though. She liked everything that she knew now.

Carrie is alone in her office when Beca arrives around one thirty. She’s reading something on her laptop screen, but looks up with a cool smile as Beca is shown into the room by the same tall receptionist lady as before. She hadn’t taken too much notice last time, but she thinks maybe the receptionist is even wearing the same outfit as she had then. Beca is no one to judge; she wears her favorite shirt to death.

Carrie is beautiful, Beca notes. She’s the kind of woman she would usually be intimidated by. She’s no Chloe, but she’s pretty. More so when she smiles, something she hadn’t seemed to do too much last week.

“Hi, Beca. Thanks for coming in,” Carrie greets her cheerfully. She closes the lid on her laptop, then stands to quickly shake Beca’s hand, before motioning to the seat across from her own at her desk. It’s much tidier than Angela’s. Maybe a little disorganization is the key to success. There are a couple of small, colorful stickers on the outer shell of her laptop, and Beca wonders if she has kids that put them there. “Have a seat. Can I get you a drink or anything?”

Beca notices that Carrie is much more forthcoming today than she was last week. She’s much friendlier, and seems genuinely happy to see her. It’s almost weird, but Beca doesn’t know the woman, so she goes with it. Maybe she was just having an off day last time.

“Hey, yeah, of course.” She shakes Carrie’s hand, and the gesture seems strange considering this isn’t their first meeting. Beca offers her a polite nod as she takes a seat. “Oh, no, I’m good. I just had lunch. Thank you, though.”

“Not a problem.” Carrie’s smile, perfectly coated with matte lipstick, is apparently tattooed onto her face today. She takes her seat back behind her desk.

“Angela said you wanted to see me?”

“I do,” Carrie nods, opening up a drawer on her desk. She pulls out a large envelope and offers it to Beca. The reporter takes it, and it’s obvious Carrie can read the look of confusion on her face.

“I felt bad about hurrying you out of here last week,” Carrie explains. “I know you were just doing your job, and that you probably didn’t get much usable information from your interview with Chloe. You know, I did some reporting myself in my twenties?”

“No kidding,” Beca says, though she’s still confused.

Carrie nods. “I was a pretty good writer. My boss used to comment on how I had a real way with words.” The blonde winks, looking somewhat proud of herself. She’s kind of charming really, Beca thinks. Maybe she didn’t give her enough of a chance last time. The brunette responds with an encouraging smile. Who is she to rain on her unnecessary parade, right?

“Anyway. I wrote up a little something for you to use in your article. It’s about Chloe and Tom.” She sweeps a honey blonde wave behind her ear, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly. Beca notices they have some of the same ear piercings. “I know that’s what people really care about, so you should use it.”

“Oh. Uh, that’s really cool of you, but I don’t think—”

“It’s fine, Becky,” she pauses, correcting herself before Beca can even say anything, “Beca. Really, I think it’ll be good for everyone. You’ll get your story, Chloe and Tom get their names in a big magazine, it’s sort of a win-win if you really think about it.”

Beca doesn’t need to think about it. She knows the relationship is a sham. She also knows she has no business reporting on the woman she’s dating… or secretly dating. But Carrie seems pretty insistent, so Beca thinks she might as well just accept the envelope. She doesn’t actually have to do anything with it.

“Can you do me a favor though, Beca? Don’t mention our meeting to Chloe. The thing is, if she knows it’s her manager dishing out all of the information, she’s going to think nobody else cares, you know? Like nobody else wants to do the digging, like she’s irrelevant or something.” Carrie frowns. “Between you and me, Chloe really isn’t very confident about her career. She doesn’t think people receive her very well. I’ve told her that it’s nonsense, but I don’t think she believes me.”

The idea that she’s supposed to keep something a secret from Chloe doesn’t sit very well with her. They’re dating, they shouldn’t be keeping things to themselves. Then again, as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, maybe Carrie has a point. Beca knows how it feels to doubt yourself, to doubt your abilities. She doesn’t want Chloe to have any further reason to do that.

So, she agrees to keep it between them. It’s not like she’s even going to use Carrie’s article anyway.

Beca doesn’t realize until she’s almost back to her car that Carrie must know she and Chloe are still in contact with one another. Why else would she have felt it necessary to ask her not to say anything to Chloe? She doesn’t question it too much. If anything, she kind of likes the idea that Chloe is telling people about her.

***

There have been countless text messages by now. The odd phone call, too. Beca and Chloe really do have some pretty great communication skills, Beca has actually kind of surprised herself. She realizes that she either hasn’t made the effort in her past relationships, or she just hasn’t liked any of them the way she likes Chloe. There’s a FaceTime call tonight, though. Their first one. Chloe initiates it, and Beca wonders if maybe it was accidental. She holds her phone up in front of her face anyway, looking over her reflection in the screen, before hitting accept. Chloe’s face comes into view.

“Hey!” Beca greets, “You look pretty.” The compliment leaves her lips without thought. She doesn’t take it back; Chloe really does look pretty. Chloe always looks pretty. The redhead seems to blush a little bit in response.

“So do you,” she agrees, fingers sweeping a red curl behind her ear. Beca can’t properly tell, but she thinks Chloe is sitting on a gray couch. She assumes it’s in her living room. She doesn’t know, though. She hasn’t been to Chloe’s place yet.

“Everything okay?”

“Yep! Just wanted to say hi.”

“Oh,” Beca laughs softly, “Got it. Well, hi. What’s up? How did your audition go?” She’s standing in the kitchen, waiting for a saucepan of water to boil. Beca isn’t the most adventurous eater, nor does she eat the healthiest. She plans to make pasta and a ready-made stir-in sauce for dinner. She leans back against the counter, phone out in front of her, and focuses her attention on Chloe. Her crystal blue eyes are just as captivating, even through a phone screen.

“I don’t really know,” Chloe frowns, her nose wrinkling in thought. Beca has noticed her make that expression before. She thought it was cute the first time. She thinks it’s even cuter now. “I guess you never really know until you _know_ , right? But I guess it went pretty well. I felt good about it afterwards, anyway.”

Beca offers her an encouraging smile. “That’s awesome. I bet you’ll get it.”

“Fingers crossed.”

They talk back and forth a little bit. Beca almost spills pasta on the floor since she’s doing everything one handed now to be able to keep her phone in her hand, but she somehow doesn’t. She stirs it every now and then, but her focus is mostly on Chloe. The redhead has a way of doing that, of pulling Beca’s focus. The reporter definitely doesn’t mind it.

“What do you want to do with your music producing? I mean, you said something about making mashups, right? Is that what it means to produce music?” Chloe asks, her tone casual.

Beca shrugs, turning down the heat under the saucepan. “Something like that. I’ve written a couple songs, but they were nothing good. I don’t even know what I did with them anymore,” she lies, knowing full well they’re stored away in an old notebook somewhere in her bedroom. Beca is not a songwriter, though. That’s just a little hobby. “I just really like music. The beat, more so than the lyrics. I like layering beats together and just making something new and special.” Beca has a habit of getting lost in her own thoughts when she talks about her dream career. She pulls herself back quickly, though. “Why?”

“Just wondering. How are you at ice skating?”

“I’m okay. I mean, I don’t have my own skates or anything, but I can at least stay upright,” Beca grins, “Why do you ask?”

“That’s what we’re doing tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that a little public?” Beca’s brow raises slightly, though she isn’t complaining. She doesn’t want to keep this a secret, after all. She doesn’t mind that they have to, she gets it. But she’d tell people about Chloe in a heartbeat.

“No, I actually rented out a rink.”

Beca’s eyes widen. “You rented out a whole ice rink? Just for us?”

“I did. Is that okay?”

“Well, yeah. Of course it’s okay. That’s awesome. But you know you didn’t have to do that, right? I’d be fine with just hanging out at my place or yours and cooking for you or something.”

Chloe looks over Beca’s shoulder. “Your pasta is alive.”

Beca jerks her head back to see, immediately catching sight of the water bubbling over the top of the silver saucepan. She quickly turns the heat down further, and she can hear Chloe’s soft giggle in the background.

“Okay, so maybe I’d order us takeout. But my point is, we don’t have to do expensive things. I’d happily do anything with you.”

“That’s sweet.” Chloe’s smile is soft, it’s genuine. “I don’t mind, though. I wanted to ice skate. I was also wondering how you’d feel about me inviting a couple friends?”

“Oh?” Beca’s brow raises once more. “I mean, sure. I’m fine with that.”

“Good. My friend is dating this guy, and I think they’re both a little awkward. I figure this way they can enjoy their date, we can enjoy our date, and we’re there to break any tension for them. Plus,” Chloe pauses, grin returning to her unpainted lips, “I want to show you off.”

The thought makes Beca smile in return. “Dork.”

Their call doesn’t last too much longer, since Beca’s food is almost ready and Chloe wants to go take a shower. The redhead promises to text her afterward, and Beca reflects on how nice a surprise it was to see Chloe today when she didn’t think she was going to get to.

She has just gotten done with eating dinner when her phone buzzes. It’s a Snapchat from Chloe. She’s in her bathroom, evidently just finished up in the shower. Beca’s eyes practically pop out of her head.

They sext for the second time that night.

***

When Chloe picks Beca up from her door on Tuesday evening, Beca doesn’t hesitate before leaning in to press a small peck to her lips. “You know I can drive too, right? I drive better than I cook, I promise,” she winks, taking Chloe’s hand in her own as they begin walking to her car. The actress opens the passenger door for her.

It’s a pretty warm night, but they’re going to be at an ice rink. An indoor one at that. So Beca is wearing a jacket and has brought a pair of gloves along with her. Even Chloe is wearing leggings as opposed to her usual dresses. Beca thinks she looks great, as usual.

They walk from the car hand in hand, and as they’re about to enter the building, Chloe tugs Beca closer to her to plant a kiss to her lips. Beca relaxes into the feeling, lips curving up against Chloe’s. The sound of a car’s engine is what eventually has them pulling away.

“Oh, that’s Emily,” Chloe announces as she squints over toward the car. “I guess that’s her boyfriend’s car. I’ve never met him before.”

Beca half expects Chloe to drop the hold she has on their clasped hands, but she doesn’t. She lifts her free hand to wave her friend over once she’s out of the car, though. “Emily, hi! Come meet Beca.”

Her enthusiasm has Beca’s heart racing a little bit. She thinks it’s sweet, the way Chloe seems so proud to be there with her. She knows she’s definitely proud to be there with Chloe. The redhead wraps the other girl up in a one-armed hug. “How are you?”

“Good,” Emily responds politely, hugging Chloe back, before pulling away to tuck her long brunette hair behind both ears. “It’s really great to meet you, Beca. I’m Emily Junk.” She extends a hand, which Beca takes and shakes briefly.

“Beca Mitchell. Wow, you’re really tall in person, huh?” She shakes her head. “That probably sounded weird, the in person thing. I’ve seen you on TV.”

Emily responds with an awkward laugh. Chloe clears her throat, catching Emily’s attention. Blue eyes dart toward the man standing beside her.

“Oh! Yeah, wow. Sorry,” Emily shakes her head, hair falling over her shoulders, “Duh. This is Benji.”

Beca sends him a wave, but Chloe and her lack of boundaries leans in to hug him the same way she had Emily. It makes Beca chuckle softly to herself. Her girl is adorable, there’s no doubt about it. They really are polar opposites, but it seems to work for them.

The four engage in casual conversation as they make their way into the building and swap out their shoes for ice skates. Beca has been to this particular rink before, but she never noticed just how _big_ it is. Maybe because there had been a bunch of other people occupying it last time. Now, it’s just the four of them. It’s easier to hear the music, too. Chloe and Beca remain hand in hand as they skate. They both notice the way Emily and Benji seem to be in something of an awkward ‘will they, won’t they’ predicament about connecting their own hands. The women share amused glances, but Benji eventually seems to take the initiative and grabs Emily’s hand. It’s sweet. It feels very couply. Beca never thought she’d be the person to actually _enjoy_ couply, but she is.

For Chloe, she is.

She’s many things for Chloe, in fact.

Beca has to use the bathroom, and tells Chloe she’ll be right back. She drops a departing kiss to the redhead’s cheek, and she’s sure she hears Emily make an audible ‘aww’ sound. It causes Beca to roll her eyes, though it’s playful. For someone who has no issue with being openly annoyed with those around her, she apparently doesn’t even know how to feel a negative emotion whenever she’s in Chloe’s presence.

When she returns from the bathroom, she notices that Chloe and Benji are the only two on the ice. They’re skating beside one another, with Chloe chatting away.

“Hi!” Emily’s voice catches her off guard.

“Whoa. Dude,” Beca laughs, bringing a hand up to her heart. “You scared me. Hey. What’s up?”

“Oh God, sorry. I tend to do that. Sneak up on people. Which doesn’t make much sense, since I’m such a klutz. You either hear me falling over everything from a mile away or I give you a heart attack, apparently there’s no in between.” The way Emily speaks is kind of fast, sort of awkward. Beca doesn’t mind; she understands awkward.

“It’s fine. How long have you and Benji been together?”

“A couple of months. He’s cute, right?” She tucks dark hair behind her ear again, almost a little bashful as she glances over toward him and Chloe. “I mean, he is. He’s really cute. I like him a lot. You and Chloe are really cute together, too. How long have you guys been dating?”

Beca almost doesn’t want to say it’s been less than two weeks. She doesn’t _feel_ like she has only known Chloe that short an amount of time. The redhead has slipped into her life so perfectly, so seamlessly, it’s difficult for her to remember a time before her.

“Not as long as you two,” she settles on, and Emily seems to take that as a solid response.

The taller girl pauses. She hesitates, and it seems as though she’s trying to broach a particular subject. Chloe and Benji have noticed them, though, and the two make their way over to the edge.

“Whatever she’s telling you about me, it’s all lies,” Chloe winks at Beca. Beca feels her insides melt in response.

“She’s telling me all of your biggest secrets,” Beca jokes. Chloe and Emily don’t seem like the kind of people that would be friends. Emily is sweet, just like Chloe, but she’s awkward, very much unlike Chloe. She also seems to be a little on the younger side, too. “How do you two know each other?”

“We worked on a project together pretty recently. We played foster siblings. It was fun!” Chloe responds. Beca thinks she probably should’ve figured that out herself; she has seen Emily in a few shows before. The younger girl has been in the business a while, from what Beca can tell. “She writes songs. Just like you do, Beca.”

Beca’s brows tug together as she glances over at the redhead.

“Yeah, and I sing,” Emily pipes up. “Chloe told me you want to produce music. She said maybe you’d want to collaborate sometime. I mean, you totally don’t have to. But if you want to, I’m so here for it. I mean, like I said, if you want to. You don’t have to… Did I already say that?”

Chloe’s giggle breaks into the awkwardness, and even Beca finds herself smiling.

“Sure,” the shorter brunette responds, shrugging a shoulder lightly. “I’d be down for that.”

So _that’s_ why Chloe had brought up her music last night.

***

They ice skate a little longer, then they grab some food. Benji is pretty talkative, but he’s also kind of awkward. Beca thinks he and Emily are a pretty good fit. Chloe humors the magic tricks he shows them, and while Beca is quietly impressed, she doesn’t show the same enthusiasm as Chloe does. Then again, does anyone? Chloe is like a breath of fresh air. She’s like sunshine.

Once they part ways; Emily and Benji in his car and Beca and Chloe in Chloe’s, Beca glances over at her date. She somehow pushes her adoration aside, but her mouth tugs into a small smirk regardless, one that Chloe apparently notices from the corner of her eye.

“What?” The actress shrugs. “Did you have fun?”

“I did. What was that?”

“What was what?”

“The whole collaborating with Emily Junk thing.”

“Oh, that.” Chloe starts up the car, focusing on the world outside of the window as she pulls out of their parking spot. “You want to produce music, right? Emily sings. She doesn’t have a label or anything, but she wants to hear how her songs sound as _actual_ songs, you know? I figured the two of you could have some fun together.”

“Is that why you invited them?”

Chloe’s shoulder shrugs once more. “Maybe.” She glances over at the shorter girl briefly as she drives. “Look, Beca. I saw how sad you looked when you told me about how you wanted to produce music, but that you don’t think you’re good enough. I happen to have a lot of faith in you, and I want you to do what you want to do. Maybe it’s not some big, legit thing, but it’s _something_ , right?”

Beca feels like she should maybe be a little annoyed. Her ex boyfriend would meddle like this, and Beca never had a problem with telling him she didn’t need his help. She really is a very independent person, she doesn’t accept outside assistance lightly. She can’t do that with Chloe, though. In spite of herself, she feels her smirk returning. It softens into an appreciative smile as she leans back into the passenger seat.

“You’re kind of adorable, Chlo,” she says, her voice quiet, calm.

“You too, Becs.”

***

This time, when they arrive outside of Beca’s apartment building, she doesn’t fight her urge to invite Chloe inside with her, and soon enough, they’re walking hand in hand into the apartment. Amy returned from Australia earlier in the day, but the time difference has her jet lagged, so she’s sleeping when they shuffle inside, which means Tiger will be curled up dutifully by her side. Beca secretly likes the idea that Chloe is all hers. Not that she’s jealous of a cat… But still, she likes having Chloe all to herself. She had to share her for most of the evening, after all.

They barely make it through the door before Chloe’s lips are against her own, and Beca finds herself chuckling softly against her mouth as she closes the door behind them.

“We have to be quiet, okay? My roommate is home. She’s sleeping,” she whispers against Chloe’s lips, pulling back the slightest bit to look up at her. She can feel Chloe’s breath against her skin, the sweet smell of her perfume filling her nose.

Chloe quirks a brow. “I don’t know if you really know how to be quiet, babe. I was there in that hotel room, I remember it.”

Beca playfully rolls her eyes, before pressing her lips harder to Chloe’s. Fingers fumble with zippers and buttons as they make their way toward Beca’s room, their jackets both tossed onto the floor before they’ve even made it all the way to the door.

While Beca starts out on top this time, Chloe soon flips them over. It’s like a repeat of the hotel, only even better this time. Beca definitely struggles to keep her volume down, but Chloe grabs ahold of her hand as her mouth works her up, squeezing it each time she moans too loudly.

When Beca tries to reciprocate, Chloe tells her she’s tired. It’s pretty late, it makes sense. Beca wonders if there’s another reason for it, though. Chloe doesn’t strike her as the kind of person that would be ashamed of her body, but she can’t help but think maybe that’s it. She doesn’t question it.

She likes that they fall asleep tangled up in one another again.

The next morning, Amy refers to Chloe as Beca's girlfriend.

Neither one of them corrects her.


	8. Chloe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy's home from visiting her mother, Beca and Chloe are very domestic, and obviously everyone's least favorite manager has to make an appearance in some way, shape or form.
> 
> A short-ish chapter, but the next will be longer! Beca is going to have a _lot_ to say.

The weather has been pretty unpredictable lately. Lots of random downpours, which is very unusual for somewhere like LA. Chloe never really knows what she’s going to wake up to anymore, but this morning it’s the sight of the sunrise peeking obtrusively through the gap in the blinds. The sliver of light lands directly over Chloe’s eyes, and she finds herself waking before Beca. The brunette is laid on her back with her arms above her head, snoring lightly. The sight causes a soft giggle to fall from Chloe’s lips, but she decides not to wake her.

She borrowed a pair of shorts and an old, oversized shirt from Beca to sleep in last night – she almost wonders if maybe the shirt, blazon with some obscure band logo, belonged to an ex boyfriend or something. But then again, she doesn’t care; she’s the one in Beca’s bed now, right? She doesn’t see the point in changing yet, it’s not like she has anywhere to be. Faintly, she hears the sound of bustling coming from the kitchen area. She figures it’s Beca’s roommate, but Chloe has never been the shy type, so she decides to go and introduce herself.

Tiger immediately prowls toward her as she exits the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind her. She can still hear the soft sound of Beca’s snoring; she hasn’t woken her.

“Hey, buddy!” Chloe greets cheerfully, leaning down to scoop up the cat in her arms. She hasn’t noticed that the blonde woman in the kitchen is wearing headphones, but she removes them at the sound of Chloe’s voice and turns around to greet her.

“Chloe, right?” Amy asks.

Chloe nods her head in response. “Right. And you’re Amy?” The redhead approaches the other woman, Tiger the cat held contently in her arms. “Did Beca tell you about me?” She knows it’s supposed to be a secret, but Chloe doesn’t mind the people Beca trusts knowing about them. If she could, if Carrie didn’t exist, she’d tell everybody, anyway. Chloe kind of likes the idea of Beca telling her roommate about her, in fact.

“Negative,” the blonde responds, turning back to the frying pan she’s working with. The smell of bacon fills Chloe’s nostrils. “But when you hear _‘Oh God, Chloe. Fuck, Chloe!’_ over and over through the walls one night, then a beautiful ginger walks out of the room wearing your roommate’s clothes the next morning, it’s not hard to put two and two together.”

The whole thing causes a laugh to erupt from the actress’ lips. They’re a little chapped from her falling asleep with last night’s makeup on. “No, I guess not. Nice Beca impersonation, by the way. You’re Australian?”

“What gave me away?”

“Mm, definitely the hair,” Chloe teases.

Amy is not the kind of person Chloe imagined Beca to live with. Already, she seems open and upfront, definitely not awkward at all. Chloe decides she likes her already.

“I see Tiger likes you,” Amy comments, reaching out a hand to stroke her fingers through the cat’s orange fur. He purrs happily in response. “Has he met you before?”

“He has. I’ve been here a couple times.” She leans down to settle Tiger back on his feet. He lingers between both women, stretching out his back. He’s evidently in his element. “I love animals.”

“Suppose you won’t want any bacon then?”

Chloe gives the other woman a look, brows tugging together. “Who says no to bacon?”

“I like you,” Amy says, pointing a spatula in Chloe’s direction. It earns her a bright grin in response.

The sound of the bedroom door opening catches both Chloe and Tiger’s attention. The cat hops up onto the counter, but Chloe is of course drawn to the sight of the woman she’d woken up beside moments ago. Her hair is messy, body stiff as she stretches her arms and lets out a long yawn.

“You guys are loud,” Beca states, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with tight balled fists as she makes her way over to the kitchen.

 _“Oh God, Chloe. Fuck, Chloe,”_ Amy repeats in a high pitched voice, terrible American accent to boot. Chloe giggles again, but Beca looks horrified.

“God,” the reporter whines, slender fingers brushing against Chloe’s hand once she’s standing beside her. “Sorry, Ames.”

Chloe laces their fingers, almost an automatic response by now. Beca is even more adorable than usual in the mornings, she notices. She still hasn’t fully woken up, she can tell.

“Whatever. At least you’re getting some,” Amy shrugs, opening up the refrigerator to grab a couple more pieces of bacon, “I like your girlfriend, by the way.”

Blue eyes meet with gray, soft smirks mirroring one another’s. They haven’t had that conversation yet, but neither one of them corrects her.

“She’s pretty great,” Beca agrees, stepping forward to push a small kiss against the apple of Chloe’s cheek.

“So where’d you two meet?”

The three sit down to breakfast together and continue to casually converse. Chloe likes how easy it is to talk to Beca’s friend, and also takes note of how comfortable Beca is around her. She likes that, the idea of Beca being unashamedly herself. She quietly decides that maybe they should spend more time here. Eventually, the reporter has to go get ready for work, but she’s in and out of the bedroom, then the bathroom, toothbrush sticking out of her mouth one minute, fresh shirt half way on the next. She somehow manages to stay apart of the conversation. Soon, she’s dressed presentably in her fancy work attire and ready to leave, and Chloe can’t help the way her heart aches at the feeling of them having to go their separate ways. It’s almost like she isn’t ready for their date to be over yet. Still, she understands.

“I guess I’d better go,” the redhead states, finally rising from her seat.

“Meetings today?” Beca questions as she heads for the fridge, tugging open the door and grabbing herself a bottle of water. She slips it into the large purse hanging over her arm.

“Nope,” Chloe shrugs. “Nothing for the rest of this week. Unless I hear back about yesterday’s audition, but that could take forever.”

“So you have nowhere to be?”

“I don’t.”

“You can stay here, if you want?”

The suggestion causes Chloe to pause for a moment, brow furrowing slightly as she eyes the short brunette.

“You want me to stay here without you?” Her tone is quizzical, but there’s a small smile settling itself onto her lips at the idea. She isn’t entirely sure why.

“Sure. I can bring us home lunch… Or you can go home,” Beca continues, almost as if she’s realizing how ridiculous the idea sounds. “Since, you know, why would you stay here when you have your own apartment? Duh, Beca.”

Chloe’s small, breathy laugh is a cheerful one as she approaches the shorter girl. Her hand comes up to curl a loose strand of brown hair around her pointer, and she gently brushes it back behind Beca’s shoulder.

“I’ll stay. I like the idea of you coming home to me for lunch.”

Beca seems to relax, her shoulders lowering to a more normal, casual position, and Chloe secretly melts at the sight of her smile. It’s bright, it’s almost excited. Chloe thinks it’s adorable. She thinks Beca is adorable, in fact. She makes no secret of that.

“Okay. Then I’ll be back around one. I think Amy should be home all day if you need anything, and you know where the bathroom is if you want to take a shower or anything.”

Chloe nods and sends her out the door with a small kiss, one that will hopefully linger until lunch.

“Chloe’s staying!” Beca calls toward Amy’s room as she heads out of their apartment. The muffled sound of _“Alright!”_ is heard in response, then Chloe is standing in the living room alone. She can’t help but notice how comfortable she feels, how completely _normal_ it feels for her to be here. She also notes that she misses Beca already, and wonders if the other woman feels the same way in return.

She’s sure that she does.

Her plan had been to utilize the shower, but Chloe finds herself crawling back into bed for what she plans to be an hour, two at the most. She doesn’t know what time it is when she wakes, but she can hear Amy in her room, and there’s no sign of Beca coming home yet. She decides she’ll shower, so grabs herself a large towel from the linen closet in the hall. Chloe has never had a problem with making herself at home, after all.

She waits until she’s safely in the confines of the small bathroom, door locked and shower water running, before carefully peeling off the clothes she’d worn for bed. Steam instantly begins to fill the room.

Chloe had changed in here last night. Beca hadn’t questioned her, which Chloe was grateful for. It wasn’t like she was afraid of the other girl seeing her body; she’d seen everything but beneath her panties when they’d been in the hotel, after all. Truth be told, Chloe had always been very confident about the way she looked, so it wasn’t that. She feels sick as she stares at her naked reflection in the bathroom mirror now, though. The purple mark Carrie had left right there on her breast yesterday had seemed so intentional, just like the two on her inner thigh. It was like she was marking her territory.

She doesn’t want to do this with Carrie anymore, she thinks as she steps under the running water, the liquid hot against her pale skin. She doesn’t want to hide her body from Beca.

***

Chloe realizes she must’ve slept longer than she’d intended, because by the time she turns off the water, she can hear the sound of shuffling in the kitchen, followed by Beca’s voice calling out to her.

“Chlo? You showering?”

“I was!” She calls back. “I’ll be out in a sec.” Fortunately, she brought her clothes into the bathroom with her, so after quickly drying off, she pulls the leggings and shirt she’d worn last night back on, damp hair flowing in deep red waves over her shoulders. It always looks darker when it’s wet. She begins to towel it dry as she pads back out of the bathroom, greeting the brunette with a soft kiss against her lips. “Did you miss me?”

“I did,” Beca gives her a knowing look, glancing over her shoulder toward the bathroom. Her voice is soft, it’s genuine. “I would’ve rather been in there with you than sitting at my desk all morning.”

“Me too.” Chloe leans forward to press her lips delicately against Beca’s once more, this time lingering a moment longer. The softness of the other woman’s mouth against her own is becoming familiar, it’s welcomed. She stays close as she pulls away, her fingertips finding their way to the ends of the brunette’s hair again. She twists a strand around a long finger, blue hues studying her face.

“Remember when Amy called me your girlfriend this morning?” Her voice is just as soft as Beca’s had been, and she notices the way the shorter girl looks a little bashful in response. A pale crimson color sweeps across the reporter’s cheeks.

“Mhm, I remember.” She pauses, like she’s thinking. Maybe even daring herself to continue. Chloe doesn’t interrupt. “Is that okay? If I call you that?”

The redhead’s response is not verbal, not at first. She instead reaches down with her free hand, the other still gripping the damp towel, to gently bunch the fabric of Beca’s shirt between her fingers, using it to tug her closer. Their lips meet yet again, and if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s worried things will go too far and she’ll have to make up an excuse for keeping her body covered again, she wouldn’t pull back at all.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes.”

As promised, Beca has brought home lunch. She comes prepared with a strawberry salad for Chloe, a chicken and rice dish of some kind for herself, and some form of pasta for Amy. The three sit across the two couches, Beca’s legs sprawled comfortably across Chloe’s lap, and eat their lunch together. Even Tiger joins them in spite of Beca’s presence, though it’s clear he’s just looking for spare bits of food.

Chloe doesn’t want Beca to leave again once they’re done. She makes no subtle secret of the fact that she wishes she could stay, the way she repeatedly kisses her and the two laugh playfully against one another’s lips every time Chloe tugs Beca toward her again making her desire to keep her _girlfriend_ around incredibly apparent.

“Believe me, if I didn’t have to go, I wouldn’t,” Beca’s lips jut out into a small pout, one that Chloe immediately kisses away. Beca tries to roll her eyes, though her amused chuckle betrays her act of annoyance. As does the way she kisses Chloe back. They’re like high schoolers, just figuring out their feelings for the first time and struggling to keep their hands away from one another. Chloe has no complaints. In theory, maybe they’ve gotten here a little fast, but it feels perfectly natural to her. She has a feeling Beca feels the same way, too.

Amy had retreated to her room again after lunch, but she reemerges just as Chloe is pulling Beca in for another slow kiss.

“Oh yeah, Beca and Chloe. _Bhloe_.” The blonde states in an almost singsong tone. The portmanteau first raises two sets of brows, before pulling amused laughs from their connected lips. “You’re gonna get fired if you don’t go back to work, Beca. I know she’s cute, but we have rent to pay.”

The brunette lets out a loud huff as she pulls away again. Not that she hasn’t tried multiple times, Chloe just hasn’t been letting her. This time, she begrudgingly lets go of her hand, though Chloe is the one with the pout now.

“Don’t give me that face,” Beca scolds playfully, pointing a crooked finger in the redhead’s direction as she backs toward her room. There’s a natural smile etched onto Chloe’s lips as she turns toward the coffee table where the three have left their lunch trash. She has noticed Tiger eyeing the not quite empty plates, she knows he’s just waiting for his chance to pounce.

“Oh no you don’t,” she says, quickly collecting all of their trash and carrying it over to the kitchen. She thinks her nails are due painting, she hadn’t realized how chipped the polish had gotten until now.

What Beca is doing in her room is anybody’s guess, but when she finally reappears, her expression has changed to something much less positive than the one she’d worn when entering. Her forehead is wrinkled into a deep frown, and there’s a sadness of some kind in her eyes. They look darker than they had moments prior. It’s a little confusing, and Chloe looks somewhat skeptically at her as she studies her face, trying to read it.

“Everything okay?” She asks, brow raising.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

Beca seems to shake herself out of a trance of some kind. “Yeah,” she sighs, “Yeah, sorry. Everything’s fine. I just got a really annoying work email, that’s all. I should head back.”

Chloe doesn’t know too much about Beca’s job. She knows she’s a reporter, she knows she interviewed her, but she really doesn’t know what else her job entails. She can imagine it’s probably stressful, though, so she chooses not to question her, and simply offers her a sympathetic look in response.

The reporter seems in something of a hurry now, which Chloe assumes is because she was supposed to leave a few minutes prior, but had of course been forced back by all of their kisses. She’s sure she isn’t too upset about it. There are no more lips against one another’s before Beca departs again, mumbling a brief goodbye as she closes the door.

“That was weird…” Chloe’s nose wrinkles. “Did she seem off to you?”

Amy simply shrugs.

Chloe realizes she could sit and stew, worry about whatever’s going on, but like Beca had said, it was work. Chloe understands the pressure a demanding job can have on a person, so she decides to let it go. She does plan to text the other girl, though. She hasn’t actually checked her phone all morning, which is something of a rarity for her these days. It’s usually glued to her person, because she’s texting back and forth with Beca. She makes her way into the bedroom to retrieve it, and finds it plugged into the charger beside the bed, right where she’d left it.

Her heart sinks when the screen lights up.

**Carrie, 12:24PM:**  
_I’ve been thinking about you all morning, Chlo._

**Carrie, 12:26PM:**  
_I’m sure you’ve been thinking about yesterday, too._

**Carrie, 12:27PM:**  
_At least I put my marks there on your thigh to remind you._

She doesn’t want to do this anymore. She really, really doesn’t want to do this anymore. Especially not now she and Beca have had that discussion, now that they’ve acknowledged one another as girlfriends. She doesn’t even know how to respond.

 _I’ve been thinking about it too_ , she types, but quickly erases the words.

She doesn’t want to do this anymore.

**Chloe, 1:16PM:**  
_I don’t know if we should keep doing this._

**Carrie, 1:19PM:**  
_What?_

**Carrie, 1:19PM:**  
_Stop it, Chloe. I told you, George has been fucking people behind my back for years. It’s fine._

**Chloe, 1:21PM:**  
_No, it’s not that._

**Carrie, 1:22PM:**  
_Then what is it?_

Chloe doesn’t know how to respond again. She doesn’t know whether to tell her about Beca or not. She does know that they could do this all day, though. That Carrie can be both incredibly persuasive and dangerously manipulative, and that if she’ll entertain her, the blonde will continue this conversation until the sun sets. She doesn’t want to give her that power.

She scrolls quickly to Carrie’s contact card, then hits the call button as she shuffles over to the door, closing it tightly. She lowers onto Beca’s bed as she listens to the sound of low ringing, voice quiet once Carrie picks up.

“Chloe, what are you doing?” The blonde’s voice sounds through the phone. She seems irritated, like she doesn’t have the time for this. She really might as well say ‘cut the bullshit, we’re doing this whether you like it or not’, but she doesn’t. Not yet, anyway.

Chloe’s tone is hushed as she responds. “I just don’t think this is such a good idea anymore. You’re married, and I’m–” She pauses, unsure of how to continue. She doesn’t want Carrie going after Beca, so thinks better of bringing her up.

“You’re?” Carrie prompts, tone only more annoyed.

“You know, the stuff with me and Tom. What if people find out?”

Carrie scoffs. “Seriously, Chloe? You’re not that big of a deal, nobody is going to care about whether some mediocre new actress is still dating a mediocre actor. This is Hollywood, you’re barely even relevant yet.”

Although the words do hurt, Chloe also knows that this is Carrie all over. She knows how to be sweet as pie when she wants to be, but she can be a real bitch sometimes, too. Maybe that’s why she’s so good at her job, because she’s so relentless. Chloe swallows back the lump in her throat.

“I’m just not going to do it anymore. I don’t want to,” she states plainly, hoping Carrie will get the message.

“You know what, Chlo?” She can hear the coldness of Carrie’s tone, can sense just how bitter her expression will be. “You’re not that good of an actress. Good luck finding new management.”

The line goes dead, and Chloe pulls her phone from her ear, blinking a couple times at the blank screen. She can see her reflection in it, wide eyed and thrown off guard. Did she just lose her management?

She wants to be upset. And maybe later she will be, when she realizes the severity of this. If she really is on her own now. But all she can really feel right now is relief. Like a weight has been lifted.

Chloe really hopes this is the last she’ll hear from Carrie.

Then again, she has never really had the best of luck.


	9. Beca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few truths surface, and we say hello to Possessive!Beca...
> 
> There are only a couple more big events I have planned for this story, so if there's anything you would like to see, please don't be afraid to message me on [tumblr](http://snowbritt.tumblr.com)!

“Seriously, did somebody clone you and switch out the happy, peppy Beca from this morning with the steel hearted clone over lunch?” Ashley asks, a dark brow quirking in the brunette’s direction.

“Yeah. I know we were teasing you earlier, but I think we’d all rather have that back,” Jessica chimes in. She seems a little concerned, and reaches out a hand across the desk to catch Beca’s attention. Ashley and Jessica are best friends, they’re almost like a double act. Jessica has always seemed the most caring of the two. “Really, are you okay?”

Beca’s eyes are glued to her computer screen, her jaw clenched tightly. “I told you both already, I’m fine.”

Her expression, as well as her tone of voice, completely betrays her. But this is how Beca is when something upsets her. She doesn’t talk about it. She tries to ignore it, all the while letting it quietly eat away at her. It’s entirely like her to just completely withdraw, exactly the way she’s doing now.

Her colleagues had spent the morning teasing and playfully jabbing about her good mood. They’d gotten details from her, the fact that she’d been on a couple dates with ‘this girl’ and now she was back at her apartment. She hadn’t given them specifics; they don’t know Chloe’s name, they don’t know that she’s the actress they may have seen on various gossip sites or on the occasional television show.

They also don’t know about the texts.

Beca hadn’t meant to look at Chloe’s phone. She really, really hadn’t. She isn’t that kind of person, the type to snoop into what isn’t hers. Maybe that sounds kind of rich coming from a reporter, but Beca isn’t _that_ kind of a reporter. And she would never intentionally betray someone’s trust, especially not someone who, not thirty minutes earlier, had agreed to be her girlfriend.

It isn’t her fault that she and Chloe have the same phone. They both have different cases on the back; Beca’s is a simple blue, while Chloe’s has a rose gold letter C displayed on a white and gray marble background. But from the front, from face up, they both have the same white border around their screens, and when Beca had walked into her room to see the iPhone on the floor plugged into the charger, it was just habit for her to pick it up.

She really wishes she hadn’t.

_I’ve been thinking about you all morning, Chlo._

Maybe not the most innocent of messages, but had it been a standalone one, Beca would’ve likely shaken off her thoughts. Carrie is the name of Chloe’s manager, after all. It would make sense for her to be thinking about her, especially given her big audition yesterday. It could just be a supportive, friendly thing.

Maybe even the second one could’ve been overlooked:

_I’m sure you’ve been thinking about yesterday, too._

But not the third:

_At least I put my marks there on your thigh to remind you._

It’s stupid really. It’s not like she and Chloe were even exclusive before today. In fact, they still haven’t discussed exclusivity. Sure, they have called one another girlfriends, but maybe Chloe’s definition of that is different to Beca’s. That doesn’t make it suck any less, though. Especially considering their night last night. Their perfect date, followed by the sweetest morning Beca has experienced in the longest time.

It all feels so much less special when Beca thinks about the fact that Chloe was with Carrie first. That there are marks on her thigh…

“Son of a bitch,” Beca grumbles under her breath, realization hitting her. Ashley and Jessica exchange a look with one another, but neither questions her. They have evidently given up on the hope of her opening up to them.

That was why Chloe wouldn’t let her take off her leggings last night. That was why she changed in the bathroom. She has marks to hide.

Carrie’s marks.

“Oh, so her name’s Chloe, huh?” Ashley’s voice breaks into Beca’s thoughts. The shorter girl’s brows tug tightly together, head snapping up in the other woman’s direction. Ashley motions to the phone on her desk. “You have a text from someone named Chloe.”

“Jesus, Ashley. A little privacy?” Beca’s voice is shrill, it’s annoyed.

Jessica gives Ashley a warning look, and Beca quickly snatches up her phone to read the new message.

**Chloe, 2:56PM:**   
_Becs, are you sure everything’s okay?_

The reporter brings up a hand to run through her unstyled hair. She had done the bare minimum this morning when getting ready, more concerned with being in the room with Chloe and Amy for as long as she could be. She’s wearing a thick rim of eyeliner like usual, but as far as putting effort into her appearance goes, that’s about it. She doesn’t even know how to respond to the text message. Mostly because she’s not okay, but she also knows she has no right to feel the way she does. At least, she doesn’t think she does, anyway.

**Beca, 3:01PM:**   
_Yeah, everything’s fine._

**Beca, 3:01PM:**   
_Just work stuff._

Beca has really never considered herself to be the jealous type. Then again, she has found that she’s learning a lot about herself now that Chloe is in her life. She decides that it’s unfair, that her jealousy is unwarranted. She’ll take the rest of the afternoon to sulk and feel how she currently feels, then she’ll shake it off before she arrives home. Chloe never has to know. It’s not like she wants to admit that she saw her phone, anyway.

**Chloe, 3:03PM:**   
_Okay._

**Chloe, 3:04PM:**   
_I’m going to go home, but call me after work, okay?_

She feels bad. She knows that Chloe doesn’t believe her, and that the redhead is probably upset now, too. Beca doesn’t want to be the cause of that. But she can’t just snap out of her mood, not right now.

**Beca, 3:06PM:**   
_Okay, will do._

**Beca, 3:07PM:**   
_Drive safe._

Maybe this is better, she thinks. Going home to Chloe might not have been such a good idea, so this way at least she has the rest of the day to get over herself. She can start fresh with her girlfriend tomorrow.

Beca gets off work around six. Six is her scheduled finishing time each day, but she never gets to leave on time. It’s just after today, and both Ashley and Jessica are packing up their desks for the evening, too.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Jessica frowns in her direction. “You’re coming out with us.”

Wednesday is karaoke night for Ashley, Jessica and another colleague, Stacie. Beca too usually, but she has already made it clear today that she has no interest in going anywhere. She just wants to go home and feel sorry for herself. She doesn’t even have it in her to protest again, though, so begrudgingly, Beca finds herself in her car, following the others to their regular karaoke bar.

It’s a short ways away, it’s a total dive in the middle of what seems to be a generally classy area. It’s not the type of place where Beca would normally lock her doors as she drives through, which is not something she could always say for her own neighborhood. She adores her tiny shoebox apartment, but it did take a little getting used to.

Her phone buzzes with a new text message around seven thirty.

**Chloe, 7:33PM:**   
_Beca??_

**Beca, 7:35PM:**   
_Yeah?_

**Chloe, 7:36PM:**   
_I thought you were gonna call me._

**Beca, 7:37PM:**   
_Out with some friends._

Evidently, she still hasn’t quite gotten over the way she’s feeling. She keeps trying to, but then she sees those text messages again, the ones where Carrie is talking to her girlfriend like anything but a professional.

Beca has a pretty good voice, she usually enjoys showing it off on Wednesday evenings. But she opts not to sing tonight. Instead, she sips slowly on a bottle of Bud Light, the cool liquid a welcomed sensation as it glides much too easily down her dry throat. She’s driving, so she promises herself she won’t have more than two.

While two cheap beers are not enough to get her drunk, they do loosen her up just a little bit, and when Beca chooses to leave the bar a little earlier than her friends, they at least seem happier with the fact that she’s now smiling again. Had she known that was all it would take to get them off her back all day, maybe she would’ve faked a happier expression sooner.

She’s still not okay, though. When she slips into the drivers seat of her car, she realizes it’s probably time to do something about it.

**Beca, 8:24PM:**   
_What’s your address?_

**Chloe, 8:26PM:**   
_Are you coming over?_

**Beca, 8:27PM:**  
Yeah. Is that okay?

**Chloe, 8:29PM:**   
_[ location shared ]_

The first thing Beca notices as she parks up her car outside of Chloe’s apartment building is the fact that it’s in a much, _much_ nicer area than her own. It isn’t too far from the karaoke bar, in fact. She’s willing to bet that Chloe has probably been in there at the same time as her before, but the two hadn’t known of one another then, so they hadn’t taken note.

Then again, she’s almost sure that if she saw someone as beautiful as Chloe Beale out in a bar, she would’ve noticed her regardless.

The brand new cars parked up around her make her secondhand box on wheels look like something thrown together in a junkyard. Beca doesn’t care; she loves her _Bec-Mobile_ – affectionately named by Amy.

Chloe is wearing a different outfit to the one she’d worn earlier, Beca notices once the redhead opens the door. She offers her a smile, but it seems almost cautious, like she’s wary and unsure of how to properly act. The oversized cream sweater she’s wearing, the sleeves almost covering her hands, make her look like a scared little girl, and Beca feels her heart aching in her chest.

“Hey,” Chloe greets, and Beca can tell she’s trying to sound as cheerful as usual, but there’s something missing in her tone.

Chloe’s apartment has a hallway leading from the door, as opposed to Beca’s which opens right into the living room, which just happens to also be where the kitchen is located. There are potted plants, Beca can’t tell whether they’re real or not. It’s like a grown up apartment, though. Unlike she and Amy’s. The redhead leads her through the hall and into the living room, which Beca thinks is bigger than her entire apartment. She wants to study it the same way Chloe did the first time she came over. The actress’ curiosity had been cute, Beca had thought so right away. She wants to pick up her things, to learn Chloe’s style and what she likes, but Beca can’t help but feel a little standoffish. She’s almost intimidated.

She bets Carrie’s apartment – house, probably – is more on a level with this.

“How was work?” Chloe asks, and Beca can see that she’s bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. She hates that she’s causing Chloe to feel anxious at all, but she can’t help the way she’s feeling. The brunette tries to calm her with a small, genuine smile. It’s easy for her to smile around Chloe, she just has that kind of effect on her.

“It was okay. It was work,” Beca’s shoulder shrugs almost lazily, gray eyes sweeping across the living room. She spots the couch Chloe had been sitting on when they were talking on FaceTime the other day. They’d sexted afterwards, and in Beca’s mind, that was where Chloe had been laying.

“Did you have fun with your friends?”

“Yeah. I didn’t really want to go, but they kind of dragged me.”

“Mm. Did you figure out your work problem?”

“What?”

“The one that made you sad earlier.”

A dark brow quirks, with Beca looking pointedly at Chloe. “I wasn’t sad.”

“You seemed sad.”

“Well, I wasn’t.”

“You still seem sad now.”

Against her better judgment, Beca lets a short sigh pass through her parted lips. “I’m not sad, Chloe. I’m mad.”

“Well, why are you mad?”

She hadn’t wanted to talk about this. It was stupid, Beca knew it was stupid, and that she had no right to be feeling the way she did.

“Babe.” Chloe’s expression softens, her feet edging her slightly closer. She stretches out her arm to take ahold of Beca’s hand. “You can talk to me, you know? Please talk to me.” Her blue eyes are wide, they’re almost pleading.

Beca doesn’t mean for her tone to be so sharp as she responds. “I don’t want to talk about it with you, Chloe. I’m fine.” She tugs her hand away, and she knows she’s being a brat. She hates this about herself, the way she gets so in her head about things. The way she can’t just _talk_.

Chloe seems a little exasperated now, too. She brings a hand up to run her fingers through her wavy hair. She has removed her nail polish, Beca notices. “You’re obviously not fine, Beca. And what do you mean you don’t want to talk about it with me? With me specifically?”

“No. Maybe I could talk about it with your manager, though,” Beca grumbles. She instantly regrets it, but it’s obvious she does need to talk about it. She needs to get it off her chest.

The redhead pauses. “What?”

“Is there something going on with you and Carrie?”

“What?” Chloe repeats, though she seems to stumble a little over her words. She seems almost taken aback by the question. “No. What are you talking about?”

“Why did she text you saying she was thinking about you, and that she’d left marks on your thighs?”

“You were looking at my phone?”

Beca almost apologizes, but stops herself mid-sigh. “That’s not fair, you’re not doing that. I did see your phone, but I wasn’t looking at it intentionally. It was in my room, I wasn’t thinking and I looked at it, thinking it was mine. But that’s not the point, Chloe.” Her voice has raised a little bit, almost defensively. She isn’t yelling, she’s just frustrated.

The actress’ shoulders slump slightly. “You’re right, I’m sorry. That’s not the point. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because I don’t have any right to be upset by it! God,” Beca takes a breath, bringing her fingers up to run through her now messy hair. It has been weathered by the day, though it was never exactly fixed up properly to begin with. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

She feels delicate fingers wrapping around her wrists, and then Chloe is lowering her hands down from her hair, taking gently hold of them.

“You have every right to feel any way you feel, Beca.” The redhead’s words are almost stern, but somehow there’s a softness to them, too. “You like me. You have feelings for me. That’s not an unheard of thing, you know? People develop feelings for each other, it’s what happens.”

“And how many people do _you_ have feelings for?” She hears herself saying.

“Just one.”

“And who’s that? Carrie?”

Chloe shakes her head, red waves dancing over her shoulders. “No, it’s you.” She pauses, finally letting go of Beca’s hands. She notices the way the actress pulls her sleeves further down, the ends engulfing her hands, almost like she needs something to hold on to. “Look, yes, something was going on with me and Carrie, but it wasn’t anything more than sex, okay? And I ended it today. I can show you the texts.” She begins to slip her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. “It had nothing to do with me feeling anything for her. I don’t, I never have. It’s…” She hesitates. “It’s like security. I’m not proud of it, but she gives me more opportunities the more I jump into bed with her.”

In spite of herself, Beca feels a small laugh falling from her lips. Her head shakes softly.

“What’s so funny?”

“That I didn’t see this already.”

Beca’s voice has risen again, it’s laced with a certain level of sadness. Chloe’s brows have tugged tightly together, like she doesn’t completely follow.

“See what?”

“What you’re doing. You date your co-star for publicity, you sleep with your manager for, what, auditions? Might as well throw a reporter into the mix, too. Get your name in a big magazine.”

Chloe looks genuinely stunned by the accusation, and Beca knows instantly that she shouldn’t have said it. That she’s wrong. The look in Chloe’s wide, sad eyes tells her that she’s so, so wrong.

“Is that really what you think this is?” The redhead’s voice has cracked slightly. She cups her palm to her forehead, her other hand resting on her hip.

“No,” Beca shakes her head, “No, I’m sorry.”

“I can see it, you know? How it might look like that? But that’s not it, Beca.” She drops her hands again, edging gently closer once more. There’s a sincerity to her voice, Beca can tell she means what she’s saying. “Beca, I like you. When you came into the office, I noticed right away how pretty you were. I wanted to tell you right there, but I couldn’t. Not with Carrie there. Why do you think I asked for your number? Or for us to keep this between us once we’d started to get to know each other?” She shakes her head. “I don’t want anything from you, okay? I don’t. Not publicity, not a story. You’re more than just words on a page to me. I don’t want any of that, I just want _you_.”

Today has been a big day for them, Beca realizes as her gaze scans Chloe’s face. The first time Chloe has slept over, the first time they have referred to one another as girlfriend’s… Now their first fight, too. If it can even be called that.

It’s also the first time Beca has understood what they do in the movies. In those romcoms that Amy watches, when the main couple both get mad at one another, then somehow resolve it all with a kiss. Beca has always turned her nose up at the very idea, always been adamant that that would only make things worse.

Until now, of course, when she finds herself stepping forward and taking Chloe’s hands in her own, before leaning up to connect their lips without hesitation. Chloe doesn’t fight her. In fact, Beca feels the actress’ body relax into the feeling, her lips parting slightly to almost desperately kiss her back.

She doesn’t know where the bedroom is, so instead Beca begins to guide her backward towards the gray couch, the one she’d been picturing on Sunday night. Chloe’s lips remain pressed against her own, though her hands tug gently away from her grip, and soon slender fingers are fumbling with the zipper of Beca’s leather jacket. Her hands slide under the faux leather over her shoulders, pushing the garment the whole way off, before her legs are hitting the back of the couch.

There’s an urgency to all of this. It’s not the playful kind from last night when they’d stumbled through the living room and into Beca’s bedroom together. There’s something serious about it, the reporter can’t quite explain. All she knows is that they’re not switching this time, and as she carefully lowers Chloe back onto the couch and climbs on top of her, knees sinking into the couch cushion at either side of Chloe’s thighs, this is the way they’re staying.

“You trust me, right?” Chloe is a little breathless as she pulls back to look up at the brunette, blue eyes searching for necessary information.

“I trust you,” Beca responds, and she knows that in spite of the way she’d been feeling earlier, in spite of the words she’d spoken only moments ago, she truly means it.

Instead of reconnecting their lips, Beca ducks her head to push a small kiss to the delicate skin of Chloe’s neck, the action instantly eliciting a soft, barely audible whimper in response. Her hands find their way inside of the fabric of the cream colored sweater, gently pushing it upwards until she can remove it from her torso. Chloe isn’t wearing a bra, and as Beca’s eyes scan over her body, she notes that her thighs aren’t the only things already marked.

She doesn’t have to speak, she knows Chloe can sense her thoughts already. She feels a soft hand delicately cupping her cheek, guiding her face slightly upwards until gray eyes are meeting blue.

“It’s okay,” Chloe whispers, fingertips brushing softly against pale skin. “I’m yours.”

Beca is the one to make Chloe come undone tonight, right there on that couch.

They both ignore the consistent buzzing of the redhead’s phone on the floor.


	10. Chloe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More domestic Beca and Chloe. Also, it's not a cheesy romcom without a song, right? Nor would it be this particular story without some drama... Only a couple more chapters to go. I hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> Quick disclaimer that this song is not mine! It's from Coyote Ugly (I believe it's by LeAnn Rimes specifically) but let's pretend like it's an original for the sake of this.

Chloe doesn’t know what time it is. She doesn’t even remember falling asleep, in fact. It takes her a moment of blinking into the thick darkness engulfing the living room for her to piece together the last few hours. Beca had shown up. They’d fought. They’d made up… A few times, in fact. Evidently, they’d worn one another out, and they’d wound up falling asleep, naked bodies tangled up together right there on the couch.

She can’t move properly, but she isn’t complaining. Her girlfriend is the weight pinning her down to the plush cushions, and Chloe smiles gently to herself as she looks down to see the brunette’s head on her chest, her arm draped across her middle. She manages to stretch her free arm, the one that Beca isn’t laying on, down to the floor to retrieve her phone.

_11:57PM._

Chloe ignores all of the text message notifications from Carrie.

“Becs,” she whispers, locking the screen. Chloe ducks her head, pushing a soft kiss into the brunette’s matted hair. “Becs, wake up. Let’s go to bed.”

The shorter girl stirs, her body twisting and curling further into her side. “Mm. Didn’t get to see the rest of your apartment yet,” she mumbles, and it’s clear that she’s barely conscious.

Chloe responds with a soft, breathy laugh. “No, you didn’t, but it’s late. I’ll give you the grand tour tomorrow.” She begins to sit herself up, lifting Beca carefully with the arm already underneath her. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

They fall asleep again as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

This time, when her eyes blink open, the room around her is filled with light. Chloe loves the way her apartment is decorated, but she admittedly didn’t do the best job at picking out bedroom drapes; the light color, the soft material, it doesn’t keep the Los Angeles morning light at bay, not really. Then again, Chloe has always been a morning person, so it doesn’t bother her too much.

She can’t be sure, but when her gaze lands on the woman laid beside her, face turned toward her, she thinks she sees her eyes snap quickly shut. She watches her carefully for a moment, before her lids are covering blue hues.

“I know you’re watching me,” she says softly, knowing that she either caught Beca in the act, or that she’s wrong and the other woman is still asleep. Her volume isn’t loud enough to wake her if it’s the latter.

“Fine,” she hears the brunette’s voice, and Chloe’s lips tug into a lazy smile. “You look cute when you’re sleeping.”

“What about when I’m not sleeping?”

“Eh.”

A small laugh erupts from the actress’ lips, her lids fluttering open once more. “That was mean,” she pouts, hand coming up to softly swat the brunette’s arm. Beca responds with a playful grin, before she leans in to press a chaste kiss to the redhead’s lips. Chloe accepts it with a small peck of her own.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Well enough that I don’t want to have to get out of bed,” Beca’s brow furrows, and Chloe watches her hike the comforter up around herself. Neither of them are wearing any clothes, but Chloe feels very comfortable regardless. She assumes Beca does, too.

“You’re gonna have to go to work, though, huh?”

Beca groans, but solemnly nods her head.

Chloe doesn’t want her to leave, but she also isn’t going to be that person. She isn’t going to tell her girlfriend to skip work and compromise her job just so they can lay in bed together all day, as much as she would really, really like to. She offers the brunette an almost sympathetic smile, before turning to retrieve her phone from the bedside table. She unlocks the screen to check the time.

“What time do you have to leave?” She asks, glancing over toward the shorter girl.

“Probably around eight from here. What time is it?”

“Just after six.”

It makes sense that they’re already awake. It can’t have been late when they’d fallen asleep last night, and aside from the few minutes between Chloe waking and taking Beca to bed, they have slept through the entire night. Yesterday had been both mentally and physically draining for both of them.

“Can I use your shower?” Beca asks, and Chloe responds with a small knowing smirk.

“Only if I can use it with you.”

She’s joking. Or half joking, at least. But Beca seems into the idea. The reporter sits up slowly, and Chloe watches as the comforter falls down around her waist, her back arching smoothly as her arms reach up mid-stretch.

“Did you know that you’re beautiful?” Chloe’s words are soft, they’re sincere. They’re spoken almost lazily, as if they’re the most natural thing in the world. They pull a hint of pink across Beca’s pale cheeks.

“I don’t know about that. I know that you are, though.”

It’s easy. Save for yesterday, when things were tense for most of the day, it’s always just so _easy_ between the two of them. Chloe would happily lay here and pull Beca back down with her if she could. She watches comfortably as Beca finally peels herself from the bed, and Chloe takes in the small curves of her body, the way her waist tugs inward. There are small freckles dotted across her back, though they’re faint, they’re not obvious to anybody just glancing. But Chloe isn’t just glancing. She’s looking, she’s taking all of her in. She’s learning everything that is Beca Mitchell.

“Are we taking that shower?” Beca asks without turning around to look at her.

Chloe has two bathrooms in her apartment. She has an ensuite joined to her bedroom, then what she refers to as the guest bathroom a few doors down the hall. She decides she and Beca will use the guest bathroom today, since the shower is bigger. The one in her room has the potential to feel a little claustrophobic with more than one person using it.

They shower together, and while Beca halfheartedly protests to letting Chloe do it for her, she very quickly gives in and allows the redhead to shampoo her hair for her. Chloe is positive she notices the brunette’s eyes closing as she massages coconut conditioner into her mousy locks.

While it’s obvious she tries, Beca really isn’t the most subtle of people, and once her eyes are on Chloe’s body, the redhead notices the way her gaze lowers right the way down, taking all of her in. She sees the way her expression drops as it reaches her hip.

“I really don’t like those marks,” the reporter says, though Chloe can tell that it isn’t so much the marks that bother her, it’s who put them there. The actress can’t help but bite her lip in response, trying to force herself not to smile.

“Babe… That was you.”

“Oh. Then I guess I like that one a little better.”

Once they’re done, Beca makes a very whiny complaint about how the girls are definitely going to tease her relentlessly again when she goes into work today wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but Chloe kisses away her frown, the crease between her brows smoothing out easily. She gives the reporter permission to raid her closet and find something to wear for the day. Chloe may be slightly taller than Beca, but their petite measurements otherwise are about the same. She’s sure Beca will find something suitable. She gets to work on breakfast for the two of them while the other girl gets ready in the bedroom.

The actress’ closet is filled mainly with colorful items, whether pastel or bright. She doesn’t own many darker items of clothing, but Beca manages to find a long sleeved black shirt and a brown faux leather skirt. Chloe would never pair the two together, considering the outfit too bland for her taste, but Beca makes the whole ensemble look amazing. So much so that Chloe would be tempted to take it all back off of her were it not for the fact that she doesn’t want to make her late for work.

They eat bagels together. Beca’s is an everything with onion and chive cream cheese, while Chloe opts for cinnamon burst with walnut. It’s probably the first time Chloe has ever seen her girlfriend be the one with the more adventurous option of the two… If a bagel of any kind can be considered adventurous, anyway.

“I feel like I should tell you Carrie has been texting me,” Chloe eventually says following a bite of her bagel. She has been contemplating whether to broach the subject or not, but decides that she doesn’t want to hide anything from Beca, not anymore. She did that already, she’s done with it. She wants everything out in the open now.

The brunette’s brow raises. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Chloe nods, “I don’t know what she wants, I’ll check my phone in a little while. Whatever it is, I don’t really have any intention of responding.”

Beca seems to consider her words for a moment, then finally nods her head. She offers her a small but genuine smile in response. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

Chloe can’t help but think she should’ve been this honest with her from the start. She’s just grateful they are where they are now, and that yesterday wasn’t their untimely end.

Beca doesn’t leave without planting a lingering kiss to Chloe’s lips, one that has the actress smiling to herself about even after she has closed the door. She decides it’s time to check her phone. There are three missed calls from Carrie, one voicemail, and multiple text messages from various people. She knows she has to check the ones from her manager – ex manager – first.

**Carrie, 9:24PM:**  
_I’m sorry for what I said earlier. Call me so we can talk._

**Carrie, 9:58PM:**  
_Don’t call now. George is on his way home._

**Carrie, 10:33PM:**  
_Chloe, come on. I said I was sorry._

**Carrie, 10:47PM:**  
_Don’t you remember everything I’ve done for you?_

The messages do nothing but make Chloe roll her eyes. They don’t invoke the feeling of guilt that Carrie is evidently going for. If anything, she just feels sorry for the older woman.

She has no intention of calling, though she does decide to listen to the voicemail. She assumes it’s from Carrie, but the female voice that rings out into her ear does not belong to the older blonde.

_“This is a message for Chloe Beale. Chloe, it’s Sarah Carter, one of the casting directors you auditioned for on Monday. I wanted to invite you in for a second audition and to discuss a few details with myself and Alan. Carrie Marshall directed me to this number.”_

Sarah proceeds to leave her contact details, then the line goes dead. Chloe almost can’t believe it. Not even just that she has a callback, but that Carrie actually had the decency to forward on her number. She’s sure it’s a tactic to get on her good side, but Chloe isn’t going to fall for it. She does call Sarah back, though. They set up a meeting for first thing tomorrow morning, and Chloe is excited to tell Beca the news.

**Chloe, 8:12AM:**  
_Guess what!!!!_

**Chloe, 8:12AM:**  
_I got a callback!_

She knows Beca is driving, so she doesn’t anticipate a response just yet. It’s after eleven in Georgia, so Chloe pulls up Aubrey’s contact and hits the FaceTime button, her best friend’s smiling face soon coming into view.

“Hi, Chloe! This is a nice surprise. Is everything okay?” The blonde greets cheerfully. Aubrey runs a team building retreat for fortune 500 companies in ‘the middle of nowhere’ – her own words, and Chloe can tell by the visible part of her outfit that she’s at work.

“Hey! Yeah, everything’s great. Is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all. I’m the boss, I’m allowed my phone,” Aubrey winks. “Go ahead, why is everything so great?”

Chloe proceeds to explain the whirlwind last two weeks to her. Aubrey seems almost hurt that this is the first she’s hearing about Beca, and her take no prisoners expression makes its appearance as Chloe tells her about Carrie. Honestly, if Aubrey flew out here to lay a verbal smackdown on the older blonde, it genuinely wouldn’t even surprise her. Though Chloe promises her she has everything under control. She brings the conversation back with news of her callback, and her own smile widens as a text message banner pops up at the top of the screen.

**Beca, 8:53AM:**  
_Babe, that’s awesome!_

It’s the first time she has called her any kind of pet name. Chloe likes it.

***

The following day, Chloe attends her meeting, which is preceded by her second audition. She feels like it goes well, and she finds out later that same day that she got the part. That’s the thing with Hollywood, Chloe has learned; everything is either full speed ahead or moves so slowly that it feels like it’s going backward. She’d take the former any day, of course.

Beca takes her out to dinner that evening to celebrate, then they find themselves back at Beca’s place for the night. Chloe wonders how often she’s going to be sleeping alone anymore. She definitely is not complaining.

***

By Saturday, Emily has used her connections to score them a couple hours in a real, legit recording studio. She tells Chloe about it on Friday, and while they’re mostly just going to be in there for the experience, Chloe can tell how excited Beca is by the idea the moment she tells her. She notices the way her gray eyes flash with an almost childlike light, and Beca insists on working on an arrangement to go along with Emily’s original song as soon as she’s done with work for the evening.

Chloe has made no secret of the fact that she thinks Beca is beautiful, but it isn’t until she sees her working with sheer concentration and true passion for her craft that she she swears she literally feels her heart begin to melt at the sight. They don’t get to do too much that evening, but Chloe doesn’t mind. She likes watching Beca work, and she has both Amy and Tiger to keep her company.

Despite the fact that Beca is busy, it’s still a nice evening. Chloe and Amy watch two movies while Beca works. She’s still in the room with them, though. In fact, she’s sprawled across the couch, legs stretched across Chloe’s lap, and Chloe finds herself drawing lazy shapes and random patterns on her girlfriend’s shins with her fingertips every now and then. Beca flinches a couple times, the sensation causing her to laugh quietly, but for the most part Chloe thinks it’s relaxing. It really is a nice evening.

When Amy finally stretches and announces something that Chloe is pretty sure means she has to go use the bathroom and then she’s headed to bed, Chloe decides she and Beca should follow suit. She says goodnight to both Amy and Tiger, then gently squeezes the brunette’s leg.

“Hey, Becs, we should go lay down, it’s pretty late.”

She expects more of a fight, but a small sigh passes through the reporter’s lips as she removes her headphones. “You’re right. I think this is as good as it’s gonna get, anyway.”

“Can I hear it?”

Beca seems to hesitate for a moment, but Chloe looks at her wide eyed, and the brunette quickly caves.

“Fine,” she says, sitting forward slightly and holding out her headphones. Chloe accepts them with a gracious smile, then settles them over her ears. She wonders if she looks as cute wearing them as Beca had. The shorter girl presses something on her laptop, then a layered beat begins to fill her ears. Chloe doesn’t know too much about music; she sings, but when it comes down to the technical side, the beat included, she isn’t exactly an expert. She can tell that what she’s listening to sounds good, though. A natural smile eases onto her lips, and she gives Beca a thumbs up in approval.

“It’ll be better when it has Emily’s song over it,” Beca explains, hitting a button and subsequently stopping the music. “It probably doesn’t sound like anything right now.”

“It does, it sounds great. You’re talented, Becs.”

“It’ll be better with the lyrics,” she repeats, gently taking the headphones back. She unplugs them from the port on her laptop.

“So sing it for me,” Chloe shrugs. Beca raises a brow in response, which earns her a soft chuckle from the redhead. “You have the lyrics right there, right? Sing it for me, show me how it’s going to sound.”

Beca seems hesitant again.

“Please?” Chloe has begun to learn that there’s something of a power to a specific look in her eyes, it’s something that Beca can’t seem to say no to. She swears to herself that she won’t use it to her advantage. At least not too often, anyway.

“Fine, fine.”

Chloe smiles triumphantly as Beca sits forward, swinging her legs away from her lap and planting her feet down on the floor. She places the laptop down on the coffee table in front of her, pulling up the document with Emily’s song lyrics on the screen, then hits play on the music. Beca clears her throat before she begins to sing.

_“I don’t like to be alone in the night_  
_And I don’t like to hear I’m wrong when I’m right_  
_And I don’t like to have the rain on my shoes_  
_But I do love you, but I do love you._  
_I don’t like to see the sky painted gray_  
_And I don’t like when nothing’s going my way_  
_And I don’t like to be the one with the blues_  
_But I do love you, but I do love you.”_

She pauses, glancing toward Chloe. There’s an undeniable smile settled on the actress’ lips, her eyes filled with adoration. She’s sure she isn’t just being biased when she tells herself that Beca’s voice may be the most beautiful one she’s ever heard.

“Keep going,” she prompts eagerly, sending her girlfriend a small nod of encouragement. Beca’s brow wrinkles into a frown, but she does as instructed.

_“Love everything about the way you’re loving me_  
_The way you lay your head upon my shoulder when you sleep_  
_And I love to kiss you in the rain_  
_I love everything you do, oh I do.”_

She clears her throat, hitting pause on the track. “Okay, that’s enough now. It’ll sound better when Emily’s singing it, but you get the picture.”

It’s Chloe’s turn to frown now, voice soft as she speaks. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down like that. You sounded incredible, Beca. And your music is amazing. Honestly, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a professional.”

Beca scoffs sarcastically, though Chloe notices a soft blush rising to her cheeks in the glow of the room’s dim light.

“You should do it, you know?”

“What?”

“Pursue music.” Chloe says it as if it’s the most obvious thing. And she means it, too. She can tell that this is what Beca enjoys, she can hear that it’s what she’s good at. She should do it.

“You’re sweet, Chlo,” is all she gets in response, before Beca is pushing herself up from the couch and closing the lid on her laptop. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Chloe frowns again, but chooses not to push.

***

She can’t help but think that the way Beca is almost jittering with excitement when they meet Emily at the studio is just about the most adorable thing she’s ever witnessed up close. When she tries to point it out, Beca insists she’s just shaking from the breeze.

There is no breeze.

No surprise, Emily loves the arrangement. While Chloe considers Emily a friend, she doesn’t know her super well, but she does know she’s the type of person to agree with anything to spare another person’s feelings. She can tell that isn’t the case here, though. The younger girl does seem genuinely excited by what she’s hearing, and Chloe thinks it’s sweet how she practically floats into the booth to begin adding her vocals to Beca’s mix.

They have been working for a little while before Chloe’s phone begins to buzz in her pocket. She considers ignoring it, but decides she’ll at least look to see who it is first. After all, she’s signed to a new project now, she doesn’t want to jeopardize that by potentially missing phone calls from the higher ups.

She’s surprised to see Aubrey’s name on her screen – they text regularly, but their calls are normally weekly and generally scheduled.

“I’m gonna go take this,” she whispers, standing from the seat beside Beca. She leans in to press a soft kiss to the brunette’s cheek, but quickly hurries out of the room, not wanting to disturb the work flow she and Emily have going on.

She hits accept before she’s opened the door, but doesn’t speak until she’s outside.

“Hey, Aubrey! Everything okay?”

“Hi, Chlo. Yeah, I think so. I don’t know, I’m a little confused. Your girlfriend’s name is Beca, right?”

The redhead’s lips curve into a soft smile, purely at the mention of ‘Beca’ and ‘your girlfriend’ in the same sentence.

“Right,” she confirms, nodding her head once in spite of the fact that Aubrey can’t see her. The blonde sounds like she’s somewhere else, though Chloe realizes she has her on speaker when she hears the tapping of Aubrey’s nails against her screen.

“I’m reading an article right now.” Aubrey pauses for a moment, almost like she’s rereading, like she’s clarifying to herself. Chloe can’t really decipher her tone, but her heart drops as her best friend continues.

“Your girlfriend is writing stories about you and Tom?”


	11. Beca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of the last chapter?? _Kind of._ There's one more after this, but you'll see what I mean. Chloe has a lot to say to a certain former manager. And with good reason! Hope y'all enjoy, and thank you all so much for sticking with me this far!!

“That was awesome. You’re a rockstar, dude,” Beca grins toward the booth, where Emily is flashing a thumbs up her way. She hasn’t really been keeping an eye on the time. Honestly, she has been having way too much fun, and despite knowing this is nothing legit, that it’s just for fun, she can’t help but feel very professional, not to mention incredibly proud of the work she and Emily have put in.

“Thanks! I don’t think Chloe liked it so much,” the younger girl frowns. “Where did she go?”

Beca responds with a short laugh. “She went to take a phone call. That was a little bit ago now, though. I’ll go make sure she’s okay, then do you want to go again?”

Emily nods her head enthusiastically, pulling the headphones in place over her ears once more.

The reporter is surprised to see that her girlfriend is nowhere to be seen. She assumed she was just outside of the room, so her absence evokes a raised brow. “Chloe?” She calls, heading through the next door. Still no sign of her. Although she’s sure she’s fine, Beca can’t help the uneasy feeling that washes over her. She considers going back to tell Emily she’ll be right back, but finds herself heading out of the main door and into the parking lot. Her gaze lands on Chloe’s car, and she notices Chloe sitting in the driver’s seat. She isn’t going anywhere by the looks of things. She does seem to be staring intently at her phone, though. Beca quirks a brow once more as she makes her way over to the vehicle.

“Hey,” she begins, opening up the driver’s door. She flashes the other woman a gentle smile. “Everything okay?”

Chloe doesn’t even look up at her. Beca notices that her eyes are scanning back and forth over something on her phone screen, like she’s reading something intently. She can’t read her expression, but it doesn’t look so happy.

“Chlo?”

Finally, Chloe pauses, though there’s a look in her eyes that brings that same feeling of unease swelling inside of the brunette. Chloe’s gaze locks with her own.

“Beca, what’s this?” She asks, voice a little unsteady.

“What’s what?”

Chloe doesn’t say anything. Instead, she stretches out her fingers and places her phone into Beca’s hand. Beca can’t help but think there’s a bit of unnecessary force behind the exchange. She looks at her girlfriend skeptically, before she begins to read over the text on the screen.

It’s an article, she notices. The caption reads: _Beale-tween The Sheets_. Beca is confused, and her glance up toward the redhead portrays as much, but she continues to read, muttering the words under her breath as she goes. Right from the off, it’s a very unflattering piece, and shows Chloe in a very contrived light. It talks about she and Tom’s relationship, and how – direct quote – ‘she just can’t keep it in her pants.’ Chloe is referred to as a ‘heartless heartbreaker’, and it’s implied more than once that she’s sleeping her way to the top.

The uneasy feeling has been replaced by one of pure anger. The fact that someone could talk about her girlfriend in such an undignified, humiliating way sends a bolt of rage through her body. It’s a longwinded, drawn out way of slut-shaming her, to put it bluntly. And Beca knows that it’s entirely invalid.

“Babe, come on. You know none of this is true,” she reassures, glancing up at the actress again. She notices that there’s now a wet mark on Chloe’s cheek, where it’s obvious she has wiped away a tear.

Chloe scoffs. “Cut the BS, Beca.” Her voice is somewhat shaky, Beca can’t decide whether it’s anger or sadness. It’s likely a mixture of both, she decides. Though she doesn’t understand why her anger seems to be directed toward her. Until she reaches the end of the article, anyway.

_By Beca Mitchell | published 4 hours ago._

“What?” She swallows, suddenly understanding why her girlfriend is acting the way she is. She quickly shakes her head. “Chloe, no. I didn’t write this.”

The actress laughs sarcastically, slotting her keys into the ignition. “Close my door.” She reaches out a hand to take her phone back, but Beca shakes her head once more.

“Seriously? You know I didn’t write this. I would never say any of those things about you.” She’s panicking now, the tone of her voice makes it apparent.

“Oh, really?” Chloe snatches the phone back, tossing it into the passenger seat. “So there’s another Beca Mitchell at your magazine? And Beca Mitchell the second coming just magically seems to have interviewed me without my knowledge? Close my door, Beca.” In spite of the order, Chloe grabs the door, slamming it shut. Beca opens it again quickly.

“No. No, there’s no one else there with my name. I know how this looks. But you have to believe me, Chloe, I did not write this. I didn’t–” She pauses, her racing mind suddenly pulling a vivid memory to the forefront. Beca reaches into her pocket to retrieve her phone, quickly pulling up Angela’s contact. Her thumbs are shaky as she hits the call button, lifting the phone up to her ear.

“I don’t have time for this.” Chloe’s voice is angry, though when she reaches for the door again, Beca manages to catch it with her free hand, stopping her from closing it.

“Beca?” Angela’s voice sounds in her ear.

“Angela, hey. Yeah. Uh, why is there an article on the website with my name on it, the one about Chloe and Tom?”

Although she still looks annoyed, Chloe isn’t trying to close the door anymore. Her blue eyes, glistening with tears, watch Beca carefully.

“Because it’s your article…” Angela says, her tone confused, though she lets out a short laugh. “Is everything okay? Was there a misprint?”

Beca shakes her head. “It’s not mine, I didn’t write that. I didn’t write any of that.”

Angela sounds a little frustrated now. “The email specifically stated–”

“What email?”

“The one from Chloe’s manager. I have it right here in front of me.” The older woman clears her throat, before it becomes clear that she’s reading aloud: “Angela. I had Beca forward me the article before submitting it for publishing. I have no specific edits to make, and want to commend Beca on remaining unbiased in spite of her situation. Thanks, Carrie Marshall.” She pauses. “In fact, what situation is she talking about?”

Beca finds that she’s speechless.

“Beca? Are you still there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I’m gonna have to call you back. Sorry, Angela.”

It’s fortunate that she and her boss have a pretty good relationship, and that the older woman apparently still hasn’t run out of last chances for her, because Beca knows there is nothing professional about this conversation. She hangs up the phone, unsure of how to even explain everything to Chloe.

“What did she say?” The redhead asks, curiosity lacing her tone. She’s still annoyed, but her barrier is falling by now. Like she finally realizes that maybe Beca isn’t lying to her. She hasn’t lied to her. She wouldn’t.

“Carrie asked me to see her on Monday. I didn’t know what it was about, I was going to ask if you did, but I remembered you had your audition and I didn’t want to throw you off. I met her at her office, and she said she’d written up something for the article about you and Tom.” Suddenly, things are falling into place. Beca feels stupid, like she should’ve seen this all along. “God. She told me not to tell you, she said it’d upset you if you thought she was the one giving out your information. And I figured that it was fine, I didn’t need to say anything, since I had no intention of using it anyway. I haven’t even opened the envelope. It’s still in my car.”

Chloe’s sad eyes have widened some. She looks hurt, but her anger has dissipated some. At least toward Beca, anyway.

“Of course she did,” the actress says, her words somewhat slow. Her eyes close and she sucks in a breath, centering herself. “She didn’t like you, you know? From that first meeting. She said you were checking me out. Carrie is a very jealous person.”

“Isn’t she married?”

“Yep.”

Beca tries to stay away from drama. She’s the kind of person who prefers to stay under the radar, to keep to herself. This is all out of her depth, and she doesn’t really know how to handle it. Chloe’s voice cuts into her thoughts.

“You promise you didn’t write it?” Her tone is weak, it’s like she knows the answer already. Beca can understand her wanting to check, though.

Her own voice is softer as she responds, there’s a certain sadness to it. “No, Chlo. I wouldn’t do that to you. I thought you knew how I felt about you. It’s the exact opposite of all of that. Take me home, I’ll get the envelope from my car, I’ll show you the article.” Presumably, it’s the same one that they just read.

“I believe you,” Chloe says in a small voice. Almost sheepish. It’s as if she’s suddenly embarrassed for ever accusing her, but again, Beca can understand why she did. Her name is literally right there below the article, after all. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Beca shakes her head, sliding carefully onto the edge of the seat beside her girlfriend. Her heart is breaking for the other woman. Beca has never really imagined herself as the problem solver, but all she wants right now is to make Chloe feel better. She lifts a hand to delicately brush the tears from under the other girl’s eyes with the pad of her thumb. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. But you know who does?”

Chloe looks at her, but doesn’t respond. Beca’s tone is suddenly much colder, much more confident.

“That bitch, Carrie.”

***

Beca retrieves her laptop from the studio, quickly explains to Emily that they have to leave but reassures her that everything is fine, then they’re both in Chloe’s car. They don’t talk much, it’s evident that they’re both stewing over their anger toward Carrie. Beca notices the way Chloe continuously grips more tightly onto the steering wheel. She hasn’t asked where they’re going, and Chloe hasn’t told her. But Beca has an idea regardless. She chooses not to question her, and simply lets Chloe do what she needs to do.

Soon enough, they’re pulling up outside of a large home. Beca knows immediately whose it is.

“Does she have kids?” She asks, almost cautiously.

Chloe responds with a shake of her head.

Beca remembers the stickers on her laptop. Maybe she has a niece or nephew. Regardless, she feels less guilty about them being here knowing that they’re not about to storm in there and upset a bunch of innocent children. This is Carrie’s mistake, no one else’s.

“What about her husband? Won’t he be home?”

“No, he works Saturdays.”

Satisfied, Beca unfastens her seatbelt. Chloe has already unclipped her own, then both women climb almost in unison out of the vehicle. They’re soon standing outside of Carrie’s door, with the older blonde staring from one to the other.

“What are you doing here?” Carrie asks.

Beca is not a violent person, but the question makes her want to punch her square in the face. She doesn’t have to, she realizes, since Chloe’s palm is suddenly meeting with Carrie’s cheek. Beca’s eyes widen, and as surprised as she is by the action – Chloe seems even more surprised, truth be told – she can’t help but feel proud. Inwardly, she cheers. Carrie looks horrified, but she doesn’t fight back. Beca sets her hands protectively on Chloe’s arms, just in case she has to stop her from slapping her again. Once is fine, once is deserved. She doesn’t want her girlfriend to wind up in a full blown fist fight here.

When Carrie’s brown eyes glaze over with the threat of tears, Beca is instantly reminded of a child who has not gotten their way, so they turn on the waterworks in an effort to change the outcome. It makes her scoff audibly.

“Oh, please.” A sarcastic laugh leaves her lips. “You know exactly why she did that, and honestly, you deserve way more. But we’re better than that.” Her gaze drifts to her girlfriend, who still looks surprised by her own actions. “Right?”

Chloe nods her head.

“You’re a terrible person,” the redhead finally says. Beca watches her carefully, but doesn’t interrupt. “You have everything. You have an amazing job, an incredible house, a husband that loves you, and that doesn’t deserve the way you treat him. But it’s not surprising that you are the way you are with him, because you don’t know how to treat anybody properly. Don’t try to contact me again. Beca will be telling her boss exactly what happened, and then it’s up to the magazine whether they’re going to take legal action or not. I’m pretty sure it’s not legal to use someone else’s name the way you used Beca’s. But that’s your problem now, not ours.” She pauses, blue eyes glancing toward the brunette, then back to Carrie again. “I could say a lot more, you know? But I’m not going to. You don’t deserve anymore of my time. Or my girlfriend’s.” Beca is almost surprised to hear her refer to her as her girlfriend in front of Carrie, but she’s also not complaining. “I feel sorry for you, Carrie. But I’m going to thank you. For everything you’ve done for me, because you were right, when you texted me, trying to guilt me back into bed with you. You have done a lot. But this ends here. I don’t want to hear from you again.”

Beca can tell that this has been building, that the article is just the cherry on top for Chloe. She knows that this was necessary, that Chloe needed to say her piece.

She feels the redhead’s hand in her own. “Come on, Becs.”

Carrie doesn’t even try to protest as they walk away from her house and back to Chloe’s car. They don’t speak until they’re both sitting again.

“Are you okay?” Beca finally asks, glancing toward the other woman. Her voice is soft, concerned.

Chloe nods her head slowly, looking out the windshield. “Yeah, I think so. My reputation’s kind of screwed now, though, huh?”

“No, it’s not. It was one article, people print fake stories all the time. You just landed a lead role, Chlo. Believe me, people are going to care more about what an amazing actress you are than some dumb article in a magazine.”

Although she nods her head again, Chloe doesn’t look all together convinced. Beca knows there’s probably no way to ease her mind right now, so she lets it go. She knows she’s right, though. They sit in silence for a moment.

“I can’t believe you slapped her,” Beca finally says, biting back the smirk that’s threatening the corners of her lips. She hears Chloe laugh softly, sees the way she hangs her head from the corner of her eye.

“I know, me either. I’ll apologize tomorrow or something. Then that’s the last time I’m talking to her.”

The brunette’s brows tug together. “Apologize? No way. She deserved it. It was impressive. I mean, I thought I was the badass in this relationship, but it’s all you.” Her tone is lighter now, like something has been lifted. Chloe’s is the same, Beca notes.

“I like that.”

“You like what?”

“Relationship. I knew we were going to be in one the moment I met you, you know?” Blue eyes shift toward her, and Beca responds with a quirked brow, a half smile on her lips.

“Oh?”

“Mhm. You know when you just get that feeling? You walked into that office, and I remember thinking ‘there’s something special about her’. I was right. You’re special, Becs.”

Her smile is kind of lazy now, only because her mind is fogged by adoration for the woman sitting in the driver’s seat. Beca turns her body slightly, leaning across the center console to gently take the redhead’s chin between her thumb and pointer. The gap between them closes, their lips pressing delicately against one another’s. It’s a soft kiss, it’s slow, it doesn’t last too long. But there’s a lot behind it, Beca can just feel it.

As she pulls back, she studies her face for a moment, and notices the way a soft blush creeps across Chloe’s cheeks in response.

“You’re special too, Chlo. And you know what?” Her lip quirks into a soft smirk, voice soft, almost raspy. “You’re going to keep me on my toes. I knew that from the start, too.”


	12. Two Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, finally, here's some romcom fluff, two years into the future, to round everything off!
> 
> If you would like to see any one-shot events from this universe, please feel free to message me on [tumblr](http://snowbritt.tumblr.com) and I'll see what I can do. 
> 
> Once more, thank you all so much for humoring my first ever Bechloe fic, with a special shout out to the anon who gave me the idea. Y'all are the best!!

It might not seem like much, but this is always when Beca is at her happiest. Sitting in she and Chloe’s living room, the setting Los Angeles sun providing a blanket of soft light, the kind that makes everything feel tranquil, peaceful. They have been living together almost a year now, and have fallen into a pretty good routine. One where they can sprawl out together on their couch, Beca’s laptop in her lap as she works on a new mix, while Chloe lays comfortably against her, reading over a new script. The opportunities just keep on coming for her girlfriend, and Beca can’t even express how proud she is. She really is an incredible actress, the brunette will never _not_ be completely in awe of her.

“Can I help you?” Chloe’s voice breaks into Beca’s thoughts. Although the redhead’s back is against her, she can see the way her ear twitches with the unmistakable twist of her smile. She hadn’t even realized she’d stopped what she was doing and was now staring at the other woman.

“Don’t call me out like that,” Beca chuckles softly, gray eyes playfully rolling as she carefully sets her laptop aside, tugging off her headphones. She runs her fingers through her messy hair, straightening it out a little. “How’s the script? Sound like something you want to go for?” Chloe’s agent is pretty good at setting her up with compatible projects, Beca doesn’t doubt that this one will work for her, too.

“Definitely. I’m really excited about it,” she admits, though she stops what she’s doing in favor of closing the stapled script to set it down in her lap. Chloe turns her body slightly, glancing over her shoulder at the brunette. Blue eyes meet gray, and Beca thinks she’s about to say something profound. “I’m kind of hungry.”

Apparently not. It causes her to chuckle under her breath.

“I can cook us something for dinner?” Beca offers, a shoulder shrugging gently.

“We could go out?”

The brunette shoots her girlfriend a playful glare. “One of these days you’re going to have to just admit that you hate my cooking.” The words pull a small giggle from the actress’ lips.

“I do not hate your cooking,” she reassures, lifting a hand to settle delicately under her girlfriend’s chin. Chloe leans up to press a chaste kiss to Beca’s lips, one that the reporter happily returns. “I just want to treat my favorite person to dinner, that’s all.”

“How about you treat me tomorrow? I don’t really feel like sharing you tonight.”

Ever since Chloe’s first movie, her status has exploded. Despite what a private person she is, Beca really doesn’t mind the attention, mostly because she knows it’s all apart of her girlfriend’s career. It has escalated along with her success, and Beca understands it. Sometimes, though, she just wants Chloe to herself. She doesn’t care if she sounds needy.

“Okay,” Chloe agrees, her voice soft as she leans up to press another small peck to Beca’s lips. It lingers, the brunette savors the feeling. She sits forward, grabbing her phone from the couch cushion beside her. “I’ll order pizza.”

“Why do you hate my cooking?” Beca whines. Chloe’s breathy laugh sounds again.

“I’m kidding. What are you making for us?”

They have slipped into this so easily. Just like everything in their relationship. Living together, sharing a space, it’s as natural as their first ever date, their first time admitting to their feelings for one another, their first time telling one another they loved each other. Beca still can’t believe she was the first one to say it. It feels like a distant memory at this point. Beca barely remembers a time where she _didn’t_ love Chloe Beale. She’s pretty sure her feelings for the redhead are only intensifying by the day. She thinks Chloe’s are the same in return.

“Want to make this a date?” Chloe asks, and Beca responds with a quirked brow.

“I just told you I don’t want to share you.”

There’s a soft smirk on the actress’ lips in response. “I like when you want me all to yourself. I don’t want to share you either, which is why I think we should make this dinner into a date. Right here, just the two of us.” Chloe turns her body, feet planting gently down on the floor. There’s a look of excitement in her crystal blue eyes, they’re practically shining. “We can wear pretty dresses, and put a candle in the middle of the table. It’ll be super romantic.” A lid closes to send Beca a small wink.

“I could get behind that. I feel like there’s a lot of pressure on this meal being good now, though.”

As it turns out, it is a pretty good dinner. It’s nothing special, just a simple pasta dish, but it seems to go down well. Beca’s focus is on how incredible her girlfriend looks, though. She wears a dress that has always reminded her of one of her favorite memories, that first time back in the hotel. Chloe looks just as beautiful now as she did that night. Maybe even more so, if that’s even possible. The candle is a nice touch, she notes.

“Are you all ready for Monday?” Chloe asks, swallowing a small bite of pasta. “Emily’s so excited. She keeps texting me about it.”

They’re about halfway through their album by now. With Beca having cut down to part-time at the magazine, she has had more time to work on she and Emily’s project. Their sounds have always complimented one another’s, right from that very first collaboration. Beca doesn’t really expect much to come of them putting a whole album together, but she’s having fun with it regardless. Chloe has been incredibly supportive from the start. So much so that there was even a small fight at one point, where Beca was feeling needlessly insecure, and accused her girlfriend of not wanting to be with someone who’s ‘just a reporter’. She’d known right away that the accusation was ridiculous, and Chloe had eased her mind quickly. That felt like a lifetime away now, too. Aside from that, they really haven’t had very many fights.

“I am. I was actually just tweaking something on the track when we were on the couch before. I think I have it all figured out now, though.”

Chloe tells her she wants to hear it later, and Beca promises that she can. First, Chloe suggests a bath. Maybe it’s that blue dress, the one with the sparkles flecked throughout, she can’t wear it without her mind going back to them winding up in the hotel pool now, too. Regardless, Beca likes the idea.

She likes the sight of her girlfriend sitting across from her in their spacious bathtub even more.

Neither has spoken in a couple minutes, but the silence is not uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact. As Beca sips on her glass of red wine, she thinks about how truly _happy_ she is, how things with the woman across from her are near perfect. The look in Chloe’s eyes tells her that she might be thinking the same thing.

“Did you know I love you?” The actress’ voice breaks into the silence. It’s soft, genuine. It pulls a soft blush to Beca’s cheeks.

“I did know that,” she nods, lips curving into a small smile. Her free hand glides through the water, hidden by the bubbles, until she can latch it onto her girlfriend’s. Their fingers lace with ease. “I love you, too.”

Beca always remembers her friends talking about the honeymoon period, that stretch of time in a new relationship where everything is just so soft and romantic, maybe even a little cheesy. It has yet to end for she and Chloe, in spite of her friends insisting that it’s generally a year long thing. There’s something different about she and Chloe, though. They’re special. They always have been.

It only makes Beca feel more sure of… everything.

“How much do you love me?” Chloe asks, and Beca chuckles softly in response, mostly because she feels like there’s a reason for this. Like Chloe wants something from her. Not that her girlfriend doesn’t just tell her how she feels about her at random anyway, but Beca can just sense _something_ tonight. She isn’t sure what.

“More than words,” she responds; their usual response. It’s like in that Fault In Our Stars book, where they say ‘okay’ and ‘always’; _more than words_ is their always. In spite of herself, the reporter quirks a dark brow. “What do you want?”

The way Chloe responds with a small smirk tells Beca that she’s right. “Well…”

The brunette can’t help but roll her eyes, though it’s done playfully. She has a hard time with saying no to Chloe, so she’s sure that whatever it might be, the redhead will get her way.

“I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot lately. About us,” Chloe continues, her fingers playing gently with Beca’s under the water. “About how great things are with us.” Her voice has softened some, her eyes are slightly hooded as she looks at her. For some reason, Beca feels her heart beginning to race. She doesn’t say anything in response, she just looks at her girlfriend, waiting for her to go on.

“I think… Maybe we’re ready to move things to the next level.”

Beca feels her heart racing harder. “What do you mean?”

She watches the way Chloe’s teeth sink gently into her bottom lip, takes in the curve of her back as she leans over the edge of the tub to set her wine glass down on the floor. She takes Beca’s, too, setting it down beside her own, then scoots a little closer, taking gently ahold of Beca’s now free hand.

“Beca Mitchell…”

The reporter’s eyes widen slightly. “Chloe, what are you doing?”

There’s something of a smug look on her face as she continues. “Will you adopt a dog with me?”

Beca almost falls backward, a relieved sigh escaping through her parted lips. “Oh my God, you are so dramatic.” She laughs, head shaking slightly.

“I’m an actress,” Chloe shrugs. “But that terrified look in your eyes just then? Nice to know where you’re at.” The redhead cracks a playful smile, one that Beca can’t help but mirror. They both knew exactly how that looked.

Beca is glad for the question being what it is. Chloe has been hinting about them getting a pet for a little while now, so she should’ve been expecting it really. She isn’t opposed to the idea.

Nor is she opposed to the idea of the other thing, the thing Chloe looked as though she was setting up only moments ago.

Beca just doesn’t want Chloe to ask _that_ question.

She can’t. It would make the ring she has safely hidden away in her underwear drawer ready for their trip next weekend redundant.


End file.
